_Zachaeus in sycomoro._ Luc. xix. 4.
Quid te, quid jactas alienis fructibus, arbor?
Quid tibi cum foliis non, sycomore, tuis?
Quippe istic ramo qui jam tibi nutat ab alto,
Mox e divina Vite racemus erit.
{Tipt' epikompazeis keneon xeino de te karpo,
Kai phyllois semne me, sykomore, teois?
Kai gar hod' ekkremnes sou nyn meteoros ap' ernous,
Ampelou ho kladon essetai ouraniou.}
_Zaccheus in the sycamore-tree._
Why of strange fruits dost boast, O sycamore?
Of leaves not thine who gave thee such a store?
He who waves to and fro on bough of thine,
A cluster soon will be of the True Vine. R. WI.