THE DYING HEBREW. A HEBREW knelt, in the dying light,- The hairs on his brow were silver white And as he saw God's shadow there "I come unto Death's second birth A pilgrim on a dull, cold earth, And men have stamped me with a curse, I feel it is not Thine; "In this great temple, built by Thee, Look down, and make this sod "I have not caused the widow's tears, I have not stained the virgin's years, "I have known Thee, in the whirlwind, I dreamt Thee in the shadow, I saw Thee in the light, Far from Thy presence driven, "Must I the whirlwind reap, because But I will not take my curse from man, And what is dark reveal, "I know not if the Christian's heaven I only ask to be forgiven, And taken home to Thine. Where Judah's lost and scattered sons meet In choral praise and prayer, Shall Zion's harp, of old, so sweet, Alone be wanting there? The Christian's scorn, the Christian's jest; But let me see and hear, From some dim mansion in the sky, The vision of a dark-eyed girl, child! And as he gazed on her, and He knew his God was reconciled, And this the messenger, sinless As sure as God had hung, on high, And, on his daughter's stainless breast, The Devil turned uneasily round, For he knew that the place was holy ground! But, ere he passed, he saw a Turk Spit on the bearded Jew; And a Christian cursed those who could not eat pork; Quoth the Devil, "These worthies may do my work; For one lost, here are two! Turk or Jew, or their Christian brother, I seldom lose one but I gain another!" THOMAS KEBBLE HERVEY. HEBREW DIRGE. "Mourn for the living, and not for the dead."-HEBREW DIRGE. I SAW an infant, marble cold, Borne from the pillowing breast, And in the shroud's embracing fold Laid down to dreamless rest: And, moved with bitterness, I sighed, Not for the babe that slept, But for the mother at its side, Whose soul in anguish wept. They bare a coffin to its place- But for that blest one do ye moan, I wandered to a new-made grave, The love of Him who died to save, Yet sobs burst forth of torturing pain- I murmur not for those who die, I deem the tenants of the sky We live to meet a thousand foes, We shrink with bleeding breast- LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY JEWISH LULLABY. My harp is on the willow-tree, By centuries of woe. I ate my crust in tears to-day, Aye, beating at my breast, he laughed— My anguish curdled not the draught— 'Twas sweet with love, my child! The shadow of the centuries lies Our harp is on the willow-tree- But, hush and sleep, and thou shalt hear Jehovah's voice that speaks to cheer EUGENE FIELD (1850-1895). SONG For the Wandering Jew. THOUGH the torrents from their fountains Roar down many a craggy steep, Yet they find among the mountains Resting-places calm and deep. Clouds that love through air to hasten, On the heads of towering hills. What, if through the frozen centre Of the Alps the chamois bound, Yet he has a home to enter In some nook of chosen ground. If on windy days the raven Gambol like a dancing skiff, Not the less she loves her haven In the bosom of the cliff. Though the sea-horse in the ocean Own no dear domestic cave, The fleet ostrich, till day closes When chill night that care demands. Day and night my toils redouble, TO A BEAUTIFUL JEWISH GIRL OF ALTONA. A fragment. Он, Judith! had our lot been cast From dreary wilds and deserts vast My song upon the mountain rocks, To win thee to my arms. Our tent, beside the murmur calm Of Jordan's grassy-vested shore, Had sought the shadow of the palm, And blest with Gilead's holy balm Our hospitable door. At falling night, or ruby dawn, Or yellow moonlight's welcome cool, With health and gladness we had drawn, From silver fountains on the lawn, Our pitcher brimming full. How sweet to us at sober hours The bird of Salem would have sung. In orange or in almond bowers,Fresh with the bloom of many flowers, Like thee forever young! But ah, my love! thy father's land- Yet by the good and golden hours That dawn'd those rosy fields among, By Zion's palm-encircled towers,- THOMAS CAMPBELL (1777-1844). ONCE I heard a Jew and Moslem arguing with "Yes!" and "No!" "May I," yells the child of Moses, "trust in Islam if it's so." "If it is not," screams the other, "I will turn a Jew to-night." Then I thought, "How every nation takes for granted it is right! Should the Lord destroy all knowledge in each people, creed and school, Not a man in this dilemma e'er would own himself a fool!" SA'ADI (1184-1291). Translated by J. F. AND L. R. CLARK, |