Nothing but leaves ! The Spirit grieves O'er years of wasted life ; O'er sins indulged while conscience slept, O'er vows and promises unkept ; And reaps, from years of strife, Nothing but leaves ! nothing but leaves !
2. Nothing but leaves ! No gathered sheaves Of life's fair ripening grain : We sow our seeds; lo, tares and weeds, Words, idle words, for earnest deeds : Then reap, with toil and pain, Nothing but leaves ! nothing but leaves !
3. Nothing but leaves ! Sad memory weaves No veil to hide the past : And as we trace our weary way, And count each lost and misspent day, We sadly find at last---- Nothing but leaves ! nothing but leaves !
4. Ah ! who shall thus the Master meet, And bring but withered leaves ? Ah ! who shall at the Saviour's feet, Before the awful Judgment-seat, Lay down, for golden sheaves, Nothing but leaves, nothing but leaves ?