Guarded of God through war and wilderness;
Holding the truth no other people saw;
First of the nations to declare Him One;
First to revere His Law!

Down from the ages of triumphant rule,
Through the lost glory of a line of kings,
Bruised and lamenting in their brokenness-
God heard their murmurings.

Scoffed at, they held their peace and overcame,
Crowded by hate into the Ghetto's pale,
Sounded to Heaven their deathless harmony,
Born of a people's wail.

Wide through the world that grief-born music rang,
Hailed with a reverence to themselves denied ;
Caged in the wall by tyrants built, they sang,
Flinging their genius wide.

Out of the prisons of the Middle Age,

Out of the reeking slums, they gave the light; Thinkers of lofty thought, ordained of God, Prophets to point the right..

By their unfetterable dreams of youth,
Joined to the genius that their race imbues,
Chains have been sundered till to-day remain
Few barriers round the Jews.

History emblazons them in bondage great,
Splendid in art, philosophy and song,
Now in awed wonder does the world await
The freedom of the strong.

ELIZABETH MCMURTRIE DINWIDDIE.

God's Chosen People

N the sadness of your eyes

IN

I see the grief of ages;
Your voices throb

With the sob

Of hearts forever still.

Yet yours the soul of sages-
You are alive,

Tho' nations strive

Your cup of pain to fill:

Yet you call yourselves God's Chosen People, Yet you humbly bow to God's Great Will.

In

your tills you hoard your gold, In dread of gloomy morrow;

In fear of fire,

Tyrant's ire,

And sword of those who spill

Your blood, and bring you sorrow!

A hunted race,

Fell fate you face,

When foes are out to kill:

Yet you call yourselves God's Chosen People,
Yet you humbly bow to God's Great Will.

On this soil of Man's free rights,
I would not have your riches!

Your pomp and pride,

None can bide.

Your wives in flounce and frill,.

Their Eastern charm bewitches.

And yet my breast,

Remains at rest,

Nor does with envy thrill:

But oh! teach me your faith, you strange people, Teach me to humbly bow to God's Great Will.

Adapted by Joel Blau.

Our Password

TO hate can stifle our religion's birth,

No

This gift eternal, like the stars that shine Point heavenwards, yet light each clod of earth, Our footsteps press, when care and sorrow line The groping paths of life; our souls shall knead The visions of the past, the day's desire, And all that beautifies our simple creed In one eternal, and ethereal fire! The flame that vivifies the Jewish race,

That consecrates the joys of common life, Which time's corrosive touch can ne'er efface, The boon in toil, the sweetness in the strife, The truth that animates like Heaven's sun,

Our

prayer in life and death that God is One. ISIDORE G. ASCHER.

Only a Jew

NOBODY cares, for he's only a Jew,

Crush him with vengeance in sight of the cross!

All of his allies are feeble and few,

Vice is his jewel and virtue his dross.

Only a Jew, like the prophets of yore,

Bearing with patience his burdens and wrongs;

Leader of liberty, maker of law,

Singing with David the sweetest of songs.

Only a Jew, with his epics and art,
Charming the ages with music divine;

Ravage his fireside and shiver his heart,
'Till he partakes of the bread and the wine.

Only a Jew-like the loved Nazarene,
Full of forgiveness and pity for all;

Giving them alms with a hand that's unseen,
Lifting the weak when they totter and fall.

Only a Jew in the reign of thought,

Winning his way in the ranks of the great; Marvels of beauty his genius has wrought, Cannot be blighted by passion or hate.

DAVID BANKS SICKLES.

"Jew"

SILENT and wise and changeless,

Stamped with the Orient still;
In many a country nameless
In every land a Will.

Master of two things is he,

Self, and the Power of Gold.
He thinks the World is busy;
They bargain he has sold!

Lord of the Marts of Nations

Where the World's wide commerce pliesMaster of infinite Patience,

Slandered by infinite Lies!

Towering, fair-haired Norseman,
Tartar at Novgorod,
Black-eyed Arab horseman
Zulu chief unshod-

All borrow for War or trading
And promise with oaths not new;
All turn, with the danger fading,
And sneer at the lender-"Jew!"

GEORGE VAUX BACON.

Recognition

So you have "recognized" the Jew?

Then just perchance-you may have noticed, too, And "recognized" the hills that pierce the sky And hold their heads in pure, star-studded blue, Whose heights command your plains which dully lie, And dare not dream. You "recognized," perhaps, The dark, thick shade of forests, æons old; The mellow splendor of the moon that wraps The night in glory, and the ruddy gold That lies deep hidden in the pregnant earth Perhaps you "recognize." The liquid mirth And tender passion of a mountain stream You "recognize"; the potence of a dream May still be "recognized"—who knows?—by you, Since, wisely, now you "recognize" the Jew.

MIRIAM TEIchner.

Is It True?

SAID the child of the bright yellow hair

To the child of the coal black curls;.

"I do not think it is fair

For we little Christian girls

To play with the girls like you;

For our Sunday-school teacher-See?

Says your father is only a Jew;

An' the Jews nailed Christ on the tree."
The great black eyes filled with tears
As the child with the dark, dark hair
Said: "But that was hundreds of years
Ago; an' I don't think it is fair
To blame us girls with the pain
That was given to Jesus by men
That we didn't know. And it's vain-
So my mamma says, to preten'
That any one church is the best.