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152 Like ornamental trees Planted by God s own hand ! His Spirit waters all their roots, And every branch abounds with fruits.

2 But other trees there are In this enclosure grow, Which, though they promise fair, Have only leaves to show : No fruits of grace are on them found, They stand but cumberers of the ground.

3 The under gardener grieves, In vain his strength he spends, For heaps of useless leaves Afford him small amends : He hears the Lord his will make known, To cut the barren fig-trees down.

4 How difficult his post, What pangs his bowels move, To find his wishes cross d, His labours useless prove ! His last relief is earnest prayer, &quot; Lord, spare them yet another year.

5 "Spare them, and let me try What further means may do ; I ll fresh manure apply, My digging I ll renew: Who knows but yet they fruit may yield ? If not tis just, they must be fell d.&quot;

6 If under means of grace No gracious fruits appear, It is a dreadful case, Though God may long forbear: At length he ll strike the threaten d blow, And lay the barren fig-tree low.