While unto the foe abandoned
To ravish and to spoil,

They left their rich and plenteous store,
The fruits of a life of toil.

And into the regions unfathomed
They bore the precious scroll,
To shield it or to die for it,
To pay the exile's toll.

Yet in to-day's pageant procession
Of banner and scroll and light,
The Jew clasps tight the self-same Law
He bore through oppression's night.

Rejoice then, O Israel! Thy praise
Unto thy Maker give.

No more the Torah bids thee die;
To-day it bids thee live!

To live for it, and to cherish
Each sacred memory,

Which time has woven in a crown
Of glory unto thee.

Let revelry hold its sway, then,
And the hour be given to cheer;
For the cycle of reading is ended
On the happiest day of the year.

And lest the mocker, derisive,

Avow you delight to be through, Lovingly wind it from end to start; Begin to read it anew.

C. DAVID MATT.

Judas Maccabeus

VICTOR of God! O thou whose lamp of Fame
Fed with the fire of immortality,

Doth swing, triumphant, 'cross the glooming sea
Of Time! Preserver of thy Country's name!
Judas, whose heart and arm were as a flame
To burn and burst the chains of slavery,
And rage about the witching upas-tree
Of Grecian glamour and of Grecian shame!
Soul of th' undying dead! Arise, and hear
The troubled cry of Israel that comes,

And quivers o'er his fathers' ancient tombs,
And perishes in night of Doubt and Fear;
While East and West voice self-shaped destinies,
Come, Great Deliverer, arise! arise!

HENRY SNOWMAN.

The Maccabean

WHETHER of Fate, or by the hand of man,

His hallowed soul glows still the ages through; Their flux the body changes, hue on hue, But, brooding Ivanese or quick American, His heart must answer to the Yaweh-clan

When thrills its call the earth or cracks the blue, His spirit leaps onto the fray anew,

As when he shamed Olympus with his ban.

Not his is it to lag in the world-war

Nor to question whether he live or die,

And though his soul and sense red strife abhor,
His task forever is to purify.

Behold the standard that of old he bore

Flash like the sun into the clouded sky.

HORACE M. KALLEN.

OUT

The Maccabean Call

UT of dense darkness, stress of the ages,
Flashes a star conquering night;

Visions of seers, path guide of sages,

Portent of dawn's purpled glad light.

Names one all heroes men would remember
Leaders of hosts, battling for right:-
Quenches their glory's flickering ember
Glow of that star's intenser might.

Hammer of prophet, despot defying,
Banner with God's lettered signs,
Priest and true soldier sends he aflying,
Chaff like the king's cowardly lines.

Slingshot and bowstring, buckler and lances
David of old wielded with skill-
Harpstring as sweetly toning glad dances
Woke he to echo silv'ry rill.

Judah's last lion, David's sole better,
Sword and the harp equally knew,
Psalming his faith's music and letter,
Joying light's birth song, melody new.

Judah, thou hero, song still inspiring,

Wilt thou not rout this weak day's doubt? Israel, martyr, newly aspiring,

Raise thou again Maccabee's shout.

What if barbed arrows black hatred hurling,
Unsheaths the sword Syrians once drew,
Wave not the flag, God's sign unfurling,
Judah the Hammer's purpose still true?

Choir not the ages, boldly defying
Tyrants' and bigots' hoarse battle-cry,
Singing this one song, surely relying
Mi Kamokha Baelim Adhonay?

Up Thou and shine forth, thy light unhidden
Must rally round thee, livers of right!
Cleanse thou thy temple, All men be bidden
Join thee, God's Priest, at thy altared light!
EMIL G. HIRSCH.

The Maccabees

WHEN you tell of Israel's heroes, those who lived

in days of old,

Sing aloud the well-earned praises of the Maccabees so bold;

Men who never shrank from danger, fought right nobly for their God,

Though a handful 'gainst a myriad, though their lifeblood stained the sod.

Though so great the odds against them, never feared they mortal foe,

Fiercely fighting and subduing those who worked their brethren woe;

Inspired with holy zeal were they, nought could quell their spirits brave,

No

mercy e'er their foemen knew and no quarter Judas

Excited all to courage great, animated them with joy; "Who is like unto Thee, O Lord," they sang with

reverent love,

With their lips attuned to praises for the God who dwells above.

Oh, heart-inspiring shibboleth, that nerved to deeds of glory

The tender youth, maturer men, as well as sages hoary!

No wonder heathen, senseless gods Israel's worship could not gain,

While they sang in joyful harmony that glorious refrain!

Not for love of savage-warfare fought brave Judas and his band

But religion true and holy, those they loved, their homes, their land,

With that liberty of conscience man should ever yield

to man

These the Maccabees desired-these that placed them under ban.

Surely, hist'ry ne'er recorded, nor has poet ever sung, More gallant deeds, I trow, than these, that have down the ages rung;

Not for self they fought so bravely, not for pelf or sordid gold,

But for love of God Almighty, was their banner e'er unrolled.

Of their battles and their vict'ries, it were bootless to

relate

All have heard their wondrous triumphs, of their great and glorious fate;

How they vanquished foes tyrannic, how they won their cause at length,

How they kept their war-cry ever as their watchword and their strength.

To that noble band all honor for their gallant acts of

yore,

For their high-born, peerless courage, for the woes they bravely bore!

When you tell of Israel's heroes, those who lived in days of old,

Sing aloud the well-earned praises of the Maccabees MIRIAM MYERS.

so bold.