De-Vine
The Lord came to me last night
And met me in my soul’s deep plight
He came and kissed my fevered brow
And took my grape vine’s little bough
And lifted me back to the wired line
To rest on steady Love sublime
He pruned me with some silver shears
And rid me of my earthly fears
The twisted my soft wooden sappy shoot
And crushed my dead leaves underfoot
And as my simple flowers grew
Deep within my heart I fully knew
That loving Hand
Got me to stand
Got me to grow
Got me to fruit
His Love channeled through my little shoot
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