Theodore Herzl

FAREWELL, O Prince, farewell, O sorely tried!

You dreamed a dream and you have paid the cost: To save a people leaders must be lost;

By foes and followers be crucified,
Yet 'tis your body only that has died.
The noblest soul in Judah is not dust
But fire that works in every vein and must
Reshape our life, rekindling Israel's pride.

So we behold the captain of our strife
Triumphant in this moment of eclipse;
Death has but fixed him to immortal life,
His flag upheld, the trumpet at his lips.
And while we, weeping rend our garment's hem,
"Next year," we cry, "next year, Jerusalem."

ISRAEL ZANGWILL.

Theodore Herzl

PEACE! no tear for him who sleepeth near.

No mourning word,

Splendid pæan rather and ringing cheer

Be heard!

Let his white bones know,

Let his soul discover

Its loving overflow

Of him his people's lover

In our voices thunder,
In our labor's glory!
Find in each tone asunder
His triumphant story-
Of his hope grown free,

Of his battles won,
Of Lion's victory,

And Judah's noonday sun. Hosannah! thou that sleepest here, Hosannah! thou that sleepest here! Hosannah, leader 'gainst all fear! Israel lives anew!

HARRY MYERS.

The Poet's Spirit

To the Memory of Naphtali Herz Imber

NO dirge or solemn bell

We toll for thee, oh Voice,

Stilled by the sudden knell
That ends all mortal choice;
Thy tuneful spirit free of earth
Must ever more rejoice.

Like gull or petrel free

That soars o'er billows, brave,
Thy soul shall spring in glee
Above the narrow grave;
Thy hymns shall live while Zion lives,
While Israel's banners wave.

As perched on mountain crags
The eagle finds a nest,
Free from earth's binding rags
Wandering Soul take rest,
Till the full message of thy song
Thy brothers here attest.

Singers like thee on earth.

Tuning the immortal lyre, Old Nations give re-birth, Hopes shattered, new desire;

Beacons that prove for doubting sons

Jehovah's living fire.

JOSEPH FITZPATRICK.

A Hymn of Zion

ZION

'ION, we love thee well,
Fair land of Israel,

For thee we long!

Thou art our heart's desire,
Our altar's holy fire,

The breath that stirs our lyre,
To Freedom's song!

Land which the Jordan laves,
Land of the sacred graves,
For thee we weep!

Land where the Prophets trod,
Where Truth erst swayed the rod,
Where Psalmists sang of God,
Thy faith we keep!

Thy dawn now fills our eyes,
Thy hope now tints our skies-
Our soul's athrill!

A shoot from Jesse's stem,
Shall rule Jerusalem,

Bright be his diadem,

O'er Zion's hill!

JOEL BLAU.

VII

THE MODERN PERIOD