To whom the heavy burden clings, <br />It yet may serve him like a staff; <br />One day the cross will break in wings, <br />The sinner laugh a holy laugh. <br /> <br />The dwarfed Zacchaeus climbed a tree, <br />His humble stature set him high; <br />The Lord the little man did see <br />Who sought the great man passing by. <br /> <br />Up to the tree he came, and stopped: <br />'To-day,' he said, 'with thee I bide.' <br />A spirit-shaken fruit he dropped, <br />Ripe for the Master, at his side. <br /> <br />Sure never host with gladder look <br />A welcome guest home with him bore! <br />Then rose the Satan of rebuke <br />And loudly spake beside the door: <br /> <br />'This is no place for holy feet; <br />Sinners should house and eat alone! <br />This man sits in the stranger's seat <br />And grinds the faces of his own!' <br /> <br />Outspoke the man, in Truth's own might: <br />'Lord, half my goods I give the poor; <br />If one I've taken more than right <br />With four I make atonement sure!' <br /> <br />'Salvation here is entered in; <br />This man indeed is Abraham's son!' <br />Said he who came the lost to win- <br />And saved the lost whom he had won<br /><br />George MacDonald<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/zacchaeus/
