I stood within, and heard And watched the passing scene. It was that day of days, The birthday of the Law.
An altar, rude of wood, Stood plainly fashioned forth, But pious hands had placed A silken curtain there, And 'neath its heavy folds In 'broidered velvet wound, And hung with silver chains, There stood the sacred Law, The parchment scroll of old, With its strange Hebrew script. The sunlight clear and strong That through the window shone, Like the Shekinah old,
Looked just a sacred fire
That burned about the ark,
And seemed to write God's name.
A man of humble mien,
And humbler still in garb,
Stood forth and said the prayers,
And read the scrolled Law;
Tho poor and mean he was, Yet great and grand he seemed, All garmented and robed In a strange majesty; The ancient praying-shawl About his shoulders wrapt, And on his brow that look Of very priest of God- And presently there rose The people reverently,
And stood with heads all bowed, While in a tone of awe,
And in its ancient tongue, The Decalogue was read.
Then solemnly "Amen" Was said, as said of old, While candles slim and white Burned bright on either side, And two most reverent men A guard of honor stood. The mean hall fell away- The people disappeared- The sounds all hushed and died; But round about me closed The sunlight shining full Like spirit of the Lord. I saw the lightning's flash, I heard the thunder roll;
The strange, lone mountain peak In Eastern desert sand
Rose plain before my eyes;
I felt the heaving earth About Mount Sinai's feet,
While trembling slayes made free
Stood ready to be men,
And vowed their sacred oath. To take the righteous Law; To teach it to all men,
Through ages that might roll.
And so this poor mean room That held me in a spell, Swelled to a grandeur vast, A temple great and rich, With altar of pure gold, That held a jewel rare And single in its worth. The men before me seemed To grow in statured height, To put an air and mien Of greatness and of power, Attendants on a Lord,
Who owned the Jewel there—
Who felt and knew that they Were guardians safe and true, With privilege to bear
The Treasure of the Lord.
The Fast of Tebeth
O! I recall the siege which fell on me:
Within this month He struck me; He destroyed
With three blows;-cut me down and left me
Now He hath made me weary utterly.
He silenced on the eighth day all my throng; (Have I not for three things a fast proclaimed?) The King bade; write the law in Greek; they
They ploughed on me; they made their furrows long.
Upon the ninth day-wrath, disgrace, and shame! Stripped off was my fair robe in honor worn; For he who gave sweet words was surely torn: Ezra the scribe-yea, he of blessed name.
The tenth day; then the seer was bidden: "Yea Write thee within the book of vision; write This for remembrance; now shalt thou indite For them despised and crushed this self-same day." Counting the months, within the tenth the woe
And wail he wakened; but the sorrow's smart— Its onward way was branded on my heart When one came saying: "The city is struck low."
For these things I have scattered o'er me dust;
O that a shaft had pierced mine heart that day! For such woe I would dig my grave;-but nay, I wrought rebelliously: the Lord is just.
I call Thee, Thou Who hast repentance nigh For mine affliction; lo! my praying heed; Hear my beseeching; my salvation speed; Hide Thee not at my sighing, at my cry.
O moon of Tebeth! exceeding is my sum
Of pain therein, when His face changed for me. Yet, though I sinned, His goodness I shall see, Who saith: "Ye waves, but so far shall ye come.' JOSEPH BAR SAMUEL TOB ELEM. (Translated by Nina Davis.)
Lines for the Ninth of Ab SHALL I sorrow, oh desolate city,
For thy beauty and glory o'erthrown; Shall I sing the dread day of destruction, When thy sins thou didst dearly atone- When the Lord, from the place He had chosen, Withdrew the strong shield of His Name, And its treasures were spoiled by the stranger, Its holiness given to shame-
When the shrieks of the daughters of Zion: Sad echo'd the shouts of the foe,
And thy streets, ravished City, ran crimson With the blood of thy sons, lying low- When the scepter departed from Judah, From Levi his birthright was riven, And the people of God were led captive, Forsaken of earth and of Heaven!
Or shall I rejoice in the beauty
And glory again to be thine,
When thy youth's loving Bridegroom shall ran
His promise of comfort, divine
In the courts of God's temple rebuilded, Thy priests, morn and eve, shall proclaim "He is One!"-and the sons of the stranger Shall answer: "And One is His Name!"
With chorus of praise shall thy daughters Reëcho the Levites' glad song,
And thy gates night and day shall stand open For the pilgrims that thitherward throng. For the scepter returneth to David, The miter to Aaron's proud line; And neighbour shall welcome his neighbour To the shadow of fig-tree and vine.
Like Akiba, who laughed when the foxes Ran out from the Holiest place, Saying: "True were the warnings of evil And true is the promise of grace," My thoughts, on this day of sad memories, Turn not back to the past in despair, But forward in hope to the future
Where visions of glory shine fair! When I read in the book of the prophet Who voiced fallen Zion's distress, I seek not alone words of grieving,
But these rarer, that comfort and bless: "Hear the word of the Lord, O ye nations, In the isles afar off be it told; Who dispersed, will again gather Israel, And keep-as a shepherd his fold!"
SOLOMON SOLIS COHEN.
Ode to Zion ·
(Hymn for the Fast of Ab)
RT thou not, Zion, fain
To send forth greetings from thy sacred rock Unto thy captive train,
Who greet thee as the remnants of thy flock? Take thou on every side,
East, west, and south and north, their greetings multi
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