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W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.


George MacDonald (1824–1905)

TO whom the burden heavy clings,

It yet may serve him like a staff;

One day the cross will break in wings,

The sinner laugh a holy laugh.

The dwarfed Zacchæus climbed a tree

His humble stature set him high;

The Lord the little man did see,

Who sought the great man passing by.

Up to the tree he came, and stopped:

“To-day,” he said, “with thee I bide;”

A spirit-shaken fruit he dropped,

Ripe for the Master, at his side.

Sure never host with gladder look

A welcome guest home with him bore!

Then rose the Satan of rebuke,

And loudly spake outside the door:

“This is no place for holy feet;

Sinners should house and eat alone!

This man sits in the stranger’s seat,

And grinds the faces of his own.”

Outspoke the man, in truth’s own might:

“Lord, half my goods I give the poor;

If one I’ve taken more than right,

With four I make atonement sure.”

“Salvation here is entered in,

For this is also Abraham’s son,”

Said he who came the lost to win—

And saved the lost that he had won.