He kissed her upon the brow, Tell me, Beruriah, pray." Two jewels, ere she could speak And answer, "They are well, Sit you and eat your supper, whilst I tell What to me befell; And assure me in what way You think it had been best That I had acted." Thus addressed, He sat him at his meal, And began to eat: "Reveal Thy case," he said. "Yet tell me, I pray, First where are my boys today?" Then suddenly she said, With an averted head: "Many years are flown Since one a precious loan Entrusted to my care, until he came That treasure to reclaim." The Rabbi spoke: "Of old To Raguel At Ecbatane. Well, What further?—But say, Where are my lads, I pray?" "For many years that store I jealously watched o'er, Do you think, my lord, that loan In fourteen years would become my own?" Then, with a glance of blame, He answered, as he shook his head: "For shame. 'Wife of my bosom! It were not thine Should forty years upon thee shine, And the owner not return To demand it. Beruriah, learn Then he paused, and said, Moving the lamp: "Thine eyes are red, But she broke In on his question, and thus spoke: To the door the same One who had lent the treasure, Then he said, As his eyes wandered towards the bed: Usually smooth and neat, Lifted into many a fold and pleat?" But she asked: "Should I repine At surrendering what was not mine To him who claimed it?" "It was a trust, Wife of my bosom! What do you ask?-Repine To keep what is not thine?" And once again: "Where are my boys?" She took him by the hand, Whilst o'er her features ran a thrill of pain, "The Lord who gave hath taken. They are dead." Softly she raised The sheet; and with awe The Rabbi his children saw Lying silent, and still and white; Be the Name of the Lord. My wife and I are content That the goodly loan to us lent Should be restored." SABINE BARING-GOULD. The Two Friends A Rabbinical Tale OOD Rabbi Nathan had rejoiced to spend A social se'nnight with his ancient friend, The Rabbi Isaac. In devout accord They read the Sacred Books, and praised the Lord Until, one day, remembering some affairs Kept me thy guest; although with prayer and praise To other duties than the dear delights To which thy gracious friendship still invites." And take my blessing!-but, O friend of mine, About the palm-tree, giving fruit and shade; Thou lackest nothing of all perfect fruit The Rabbi's Vision BEN LEVI sat with his books alone At the midnight's solemn chime, And the full-orb'd moon through his lattice shone In the power of autumn's prime; It shone on the darkly learned page, And the snowy locks of the lonely Sage But he sat and mark'd not its silvery light, For his thoughts were on other themes that night. Wide was the learn'd Ben Levi's fame As the wanderings of his race And many a seeker of wisdom came To his lonely dwelling place; Yet a question ask'd by a simple maid The Rabbi ponder'd the question o'er Yet a maiden's question might not foil And he leant on his hand his aged brow, For the current of thought ran deeper now: When, lo! by his side, Ben Levi heard A sound of rustling leaves But not like those of the forest stirr'd That comes through the dim and dewy shades Bringing the odors of hidden flowers That bloom in the greenwood's secret bowers But the leaves of a luckless volume turn'd Old were the characters, and black As the soil when sear'd by the lightning's track, |