Ye tread on my beard and ye spit in my face, "Oh, no! If true justice still lingers on earth Return me the land where I battled and fought, Where I strove with and conquer'd wild races of men, saw. "In that land were my fathers for ages interred, And the prophets and sages who lived by the Word, There the graves of my martyrs abound on the plains, And the roads are yet strewn with my children's remains! Every stone in that land is a tear from my eye, In its mountains still lingers the breath of my sigh. In its forests my wailing can yet be discerned,Lives a soul who would say thus: 'I am not concerned?' Then return me my country! If justice yet dwell Here on earth, O return me, return my Beth-el!" L. SMIRNOW. A Song of Zion (Dedicated to the Zionist Society of Montreal) WE E are coming, coming, coming. Fling our banner to the breeze. In thousands we are coming from beyond remotest seas. We are coming after centuries of sorrow and of toil, To make our home in Palestine and tread its holy soil. O, let the song of gladness rise; let all the nations hear The anthem of a mighty host of Zion drawing near, Across the mountains, through the vales, and o'er the ocean's foam, Behold the hosts of Israel are coming, coming home! 'Twas said of old by one whose lips were touched by Heaven's fire, That God's own house would be built up, than hills and mountains higher; That from its portals would go forth to all the world the word, That may we learn His ways, and walk in truth before the Lord; That Sword and Spear would broken be, and turned to arts of peace; That all the panoply of war and strife forever cease; That nation shall not lift up sword against nation, as of yore, But listen to the voice of God and learn of war no more. O, Children of the Covenant, perhaps the day is near, E'en now, if you will listen, you may hear the accents clear Of One who calls the scattered brood-come to Me! children, Come! My hills are vacant. Here I am. I bid you welcome home! Then answer-we are coming! Fling our banner to the breeze! In thousands we are coming from beyond remotest seas. We are coming after centuries of sorrow and of toil To make our home in Palestine and tread its holy soil. O, let the songs of gladness rise, let all the nations hear The anthem of the mighty host of Israel drawing near; Across the mountains, through the vales, and o'er the ocean's foam, Behold the hosts of Israel are coming, coming home! CARROLL RYAN. Zionism Star of Hope! O Blessed Star! Shine forth, thou great and lovely Star! A beacon-light of faith and cheer, Be thou to Israel far and near. MIRIAM BLAUSTEIN. Zionism 'HE story that Herzl told was true THE Too bitter true for tears; The blood-marked trail of the homeless Jew Walled out by hate from the Gentile's heart, The Jew has walked in the nigh-apart, But now at last-he stands erect, No Czar-no king-no church-no sect, His flag shall fly where his fathers fought- One race! One flag! One nation! Why not? My brothers, my brothers! O wand'ring aimless horde, A clarion from Zion is speaking for the Lord! "Arise a mighty band; With heart and voice Make now the choice, And straightly seek your land." My heroes, my heroes, whose hearts and lives are free, Arise and be counted that all the world may see! Those ancient fields reclaim Whence Israel's splendor came, And win and hold To consecrate her name. JESSIE E. SAMPTER. In the Land of Our Fathers BLUE are the skies in the land of our fathers— A blue of the beauteous sheen; Through the clear of the air on the farthest horizon Broad are the dales in the land of our fathers, Fair-smelling groves where the almond-trees mur mur Vistas of grape-girded bowers. High are the hills in the land of our fathers To reach to the vaulting sky; Israelites, sturdily tilling and reaping, Are chanting their carols nearby. Bright gleams the moon in the land of our fathers, Through myriad stars the queen of the even Fair are the babes in the land of our fathers, Godly the words of the songs they are singing- K. L. SILLMAN. On to the East YOUR loins let girt be, Your staff in hand hold; Upon your shoulders now fling ye |