Fruitful and spreading round the walls be thine,
And branch-like be thine offspring!"—Gerard then
Look'd joyful love, and softly said, "Amen."
Now of that vine he'd have no more increase,
Those playful branches now disturb his peace:
Them he beholds around his table spread,
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But finds, the more the branch, the less the bread;
And while they run his humble walls about,
They keep the sunshine of good-humour out.