Binding, to the vine, his ass, And to the choice vine his ass's colt, He hath washed in wine his raiment, And in the blood of grapes, his mantle:

A fruitful bough over a fountain, - Branches creeping over a wail.

And the chief of the butlers related his dream to Joseph, - and said to him, In my dream, then lo! a vine, before me;

and, in the vine, three shoots, - and the same at sprouting time, had shot up her blossom, and her clusters had brought to perfection ripe grapes.