The Persecuted Jew WHEN strife is rampant in the world, And men and devils loudly cheer; The hearts of men have turned to stone, Defend the people, God of hosts, Thou God of Israel, grand and great; STEPHEN TAYLOR DEKINS. In the Name of Jesus of Nazareth GLOWS once more in the Russian sky, the blood red dawn of a day of hate Shrills at the Throne of God, the cry of a people that faints 'neath its cross's weight, Of a people hounded and done to death In the name of Jesus of Nazareth. Bells are ringing and organs peal; a thousand choirs their hymns upraise; Peasant and pope at the altar kneel, and lone, in his guarded palace, prays The fear-torn despot; and thus he saith: In the name of Jesus of Nazareth: "Father in Heaven, thy reign of love come, and Thy will on this earth be done, Even as it is in Thy courts above. Forgive us, as we forgive everyone; And tempt us never, but keep from scath In the name of Jesus of Nazareth." Up to God's throne with the organ's voice and the chime of bells, goes the mob's fierce shout: Drowned are the hymns by the horrid noise of curses and groans and the thud of knout; For the tyrant's prayer is a liar's breath- Christians, say, shall a savage Tsar blaspheme unchidden the name of Christ? Yours, not mine, is this holy war, by your faith in him that was sacrificed By your faith that your souls may be saved from death In the Name of Jesus of Nazareth! One is the Father-his sons all men. These brothers of mine are your brothers, too; Save our brothers, I charge you, then, in their brother's name whom the Romans slew In his name, who forgave with his dying breathMy brother, Jesus of Nazareth. How Long? ANONYMOUS. HOW long, O Lord, shall sobs and sighs Re-echo in our ears? How long, O Lord, shall groans and cries How long, O Lord, shall blood be shed. How long, O Lord, shall deathly dread How long, O Lord, shall darkness reign, How long, O Lord, by crimson stain Our fateful page be flecked? How long, O Lord, shall justice sleep How long, O Lord, in exile yet, How long, O Lord, until the morn When Thy own glory shall adorn The Zion of our dream? ISRAEL COHEN. Israel in Russia THOU art but One! O God to Whom we bow In adoration; E'en as in Egypt, Thou wilt hear us now Thy Chosen Nation. Much have we sinned; far from Thy face have fled, Deep our repentance; Thou myself hast said Empires of old' upon us heaped their chains, Thy thunders rolled-and of their might remains Still those we taught to hold Thy Name in awe We are the leash that binds them to Thy Law- Vengeance is Thine! yet Thine is mercy, too. "Shield us, but grieve them Not!" be our prayer: "They know not what they do. Father! forgive them!" ARTHUR GUITERMAN. The Massacre of the Jews AWAIL comes o'er the swelling seas From a far land, 'neath eastern skies, To glut the Moslem's savage hate, The victims of remorseless fate! What was their crime? Had they rebelled Nursed into bloom the Blood-Red Flower To death on the ensanguined tide? They 'neath their vines and fig-trees dwelt, While little children gathered round To list with awe the sacred word! But hark! what 'larum fills the air! Wake, Israel! Rouse! Your hour is come! Ah, face the tiger in his lair When thirsting-mad for human prey, But not these zealots in their rage, He is more pitiful than they. Their furiest passions all ablaze These blood-hounds lust for human game, No mercy in that zeal-crazed throng; That would have died her child to save, The life-blood flows, a sabre thrust, Yet she could bless the hand that gave. Better to die than thus to live! With bleeding heart and maddened brain, She sees her husband fall; her sire, His gray hairs dashed with crimson stain, Nor age, nor sex were spared. O! God, Can such fiends curse thy beauteous earth? And what their victim's high offense? The only crime of Jewish birth! The crime of following in the path |