Shinar and Pathros! come they near to thee?
Naught are they by thy light and right divine.
To what can be compared the majesty
Of thy anointed line?
To what the singers, seers, and the Levites thine?
The rule of idols fails and is cast down;
Thy power eternal is, from age to age Thy crown. The Lord desires thee for His dwelling-place Eternally, and bless'd
Is he whom God has chosen for the grace
Within thy courts to rest.
Happy is he that watches, drawing near,
Until he sees thy glorious lights arise,
And over whom thy dawn breaks full and clear
Set in the orient skies.
But happiest he who, with exultant eyes,
The bliss of thy redeemed ones shall behold,
And see thy youth renewed as in days of old.
JUDAH HA-LEVI.
(Translated by Alice Lucas.)
OZION! of thine exiles' peace take thought,
The remnant of thy flock, who thine have sought! From west, from east, from north and south resounds, Afar and now anear, from all thy bounds,
And no surcease,
"With thee be peace!"
In longing's fetters chained I greet thee, too,
My tears fast welling forth like Hermon's dew-
O bliss could they but drop on holy hills!
A croaking bird I turn, when through me thrills
Thy desolate state; but when I dream anon,
The Lord brings back thy ev'ry captive son-
A harp straightway
In heart I dwell where once thy purest son
At Bethel and Peniel, triumphs won;
God's awesome presence there was close to thee,
Whose doors thy Maker, by divine decree,
Opposed as mates
Nor sun, nor moon, nor stars had need to be;
God's countenance alone illumined thee
On whose elect He poured His spirit out.
In thee would I my soul pour forth devout!
Thou wert the kingdom's seat, of God the throne,
And now there dwells a slave race, not thine own,
In royal state,
Where reigned thy great.
O would that I could roam o'er ev'ry place
Where God to missioned prophets showed His grace!
And who will give me wings? An off'ring meet,
I'd haste to lay upon thy shattered seat,
Thy counterpart
My bruised heart.
Upon thy precious ground I'd fall prostrate,
Thy stones caress, the dust within thy gate,
And happiness it were in awe to stand
At Hebron's graves, the treasures of thy land,
And greet thy woods, thy vine-clad slopes, thy vales,
Greet Abarim and Hor, whose light ne'er pales,
A radiant crown,
Thy priests' renown.
Thy air is balm for souls; like myrrh thy sand;
With honey run the rivers of thy land.
Though bare my feet, my heart's delight I'd count
To tread my way all o'er thy desert mount,
Where once rose tall
Thy holy hall.
Where stood thy treasure-ark, in recess dim,
Close-curtained, guarded o'er by cherubim,
My Naz'rite's crown would I pluck off, and cast
It gladly forth. With curses would I blast
The impious time thy people, diadem-crowned,
Thy Nazirites, did pass, by en'mies bound
With hatred's bands,
Through unclean lands.
By dogs thy lusty lions are brutal torn
And dragged; thy strong, young eaglets, heav'nward
By foul-mouthed ravens snatched, and all undone. Can food still tempt my taste? Can light of sun Seem fair to shine
Soft, soft! Leave off a while, O cup of pain!
My loins are weighted down, my heart and brain,
With bitterness from thee. Whene'er I think
Of Aholah, proud northern queen, I drink
Thy wrath, and when my Aholibah forlorn
Comes back to mind-'tis then I quaff thy scorn,
Then, draught of pain,
Thy lees I drain.
O Zion! Crown of grace! Thy comeliness
Hath ever favor won and fond caress.
Thy faithful lovers' lives are bound in thine;
They joy in thy security, but pine
And weep in gloom
O'er thy sad doom.
From out the prisoner's cell they sigh for thee,
And each in prayer, wherever he may be,
Towards thy demolished portals turns. Exiled,
Dispersed from mount to hill, thy flock defiled
Hath not forgot thy sheltering fold. They grasp
Thy garment's hem, and trustful, eager, clasp
With outstretched arms,
Thy branching palms.
Shinar, Pathros-can they in majesty
With thee compare? Or their idolatry
With thy Urim and thy Thummim august?
Who can surpass thy priests, thy saintly just,
Thy prophets bold,
The heathen kingdoms change and wholly cease-
Thy might alone stands firm without decrease,
Thy Nazarites from age to age abide,
Thy God in thee desireth to reside.
Then happy he who maketh choice of thee
To dwell within thy courts, and waits to see,
And toils to make,
On him shall as the morning break thy light,
The bliss of thy elect shall glad his sight,
In thy felicities shall he rejoice,
In triumph sweet exult, with jubilant voice,
O'er thee, adored,
(Translated by Nina Davis.)
In Memoriam, Ninth of Ab
ND all is lost! Thy valiant sons are dead
Or slaves! The crown from off thy queenly brow
Is plucked! Thy glory in the dust doth bow! Thine ancient splendours are for ever fled!
I see it all-thine altars gory red:
Around, Death lays the mighty heroes low,
Awhile, revengeful and relentless glow
The fiendish flames, and from the foot to head
Consume the Sanctuary! O woeful day!
When Temple, Country, Freedom, all in one,
Most dire destruction, fell! Then to the skies
Uprose the bitter cry of dark dismay,
Oh, God, Almighty Lord, forgive, condone,
And in Thy glory, make our glory rise!
A Thought for the Ninth of Ab SWINGING low by a garden wall
A flower bent its head, Only a few its beauty knew,
And the fragrance sweet it shed.
But a wind blew rough on the blossom rare,
And its seeds were scattered wide,
Now one finds its bloom, where'er there's room
On the great green countryside!
So stood the shrine on Zion's hill,
For Truth's Temple fair,
But all too few its beauty knew-
Men knew not Truth dwelt there.
But came the foe like shattering storm,
And Temple walls laid low,
'Neath weeping skies the ruin lies
'Mid wails of mortal woe.
But like windblown blossom then
The precious seeds were blown,
And Truth spread wide on every side
Where'er the seeds were sown!
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