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Out of the Depths

UT of the depths of despair

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There cometh a plaint and a prayer;
Give ear to this cry, O my brothers,
From lips that have pleaded for others!

"Must I die in the land of the living
A terrible two-fold death,
Or come ye with mercy, life-giving,
Ere the angel shall stifle my breath?

"I found a world of oppression,
Of merciless hatred and greed;
God's wrath-I gave it expression,
And the world it could not but heed.

"I heard how my people were groaning
'Neath tyranny's pitiless yoke,
And I uttered their muffled moaning
Till men turned pale as I spoke.

"And all the reward that I sought for
Was to share in the ending of wrong;
But I fell in the cause that I fought for,
Too weak for even a song.

"I am still in the land of the living
Where greed and oppression abound;
Yet spite of my saddest misgiving,
My voice can not utter a sound.

"Will you praise me and call me a prophet When my bones lie under the sod?

If I heed it at all, I shall scoff it
And call you to 'count before God.

"A crust of bread for each flower

You are saving to lay on my tomb, Mayhap would yield me the power The song of my youth to resume.

""Tis no marble pillar I task for
But for Truth and Right alone;
Then stint not the pity I ask for,
To pay me for bread, with a stone.".

Out of the depths of despair
O hearken a plaint and a prayer!
O brothers, make haste to attend it
Ere comes the grim Reaper to end it.

That ancient and often-told story
Of a prophet despoiled of his glory,
Till, deaf to the praise of vain mortals,
He enters eternity's portals.

THE

JOSEPH JASIN.

As the Stars and the Sands

'HE hills and the valleys are flooded with moonlight, The radiant stars, how resplendent they gleam!

Before me lies open the dear, olden volume,

On whose pages I ponder and dream.

I pore o'er its pages so precious and sacred,

When sudden there whispers a voice unto me: "I have promised, O Israel, I have sworn to make you Like the stars of the heavens, the sands of the sea!"

O Lord of Creation! what mortal dare question
A single word of Thy Promise of grace?

Every deed Thou hast pledged Thou art mighty to do it

Each thing in its time, each part in its place.

And one thing e'en now Thou hast surely fulfilled it, Mine own eyes behold it, forbidding all doubt; We have become like the sand that is worthless, Trodden and trampled and blown about.

Yes, dear Lord, as the sand the pebbles

Are we scattered and strewn 'neath contemptuous feet;

But the stars-how long, O Lord, ere the stars
The yearning eyes with their glory shall greet?

S. FRUG.

(Translated by Joseph Jasin.)

Whom You Are to Blame"

(Dedicated to "Mentor.")

ONCE in my secluded chamber

Late at night I read

Israel's ancient wondrous story;
How he shone and shed

Light around him, in his homeland
Thriving free and great..
Then my thoughts passed to his later
Treacherous, cruel fate:

Israel homeless, footsore, captive
Into exile goes,

And the world has long forgotten
What to him it owes.

"Gentile world! You have polluted

Springs from which you drank!"

And in bitter, sad reflections,

Tired and weak I sank..

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Stealthily an old man entered
My secluded room;

On his breast a cross suspended,
In his eyes-deep gloom.

"Fear not," said he, "vain intruder
I am not, you'll find;

You accused me, and I came here,
Came to speak my mind.

"Not defend myself, but tell you
Whom you are to blame"

For your homelessness, your downfall,
For your grief and shame.

"No, not I, but you polluted

Your eternal spring;

Home and faith and pride abandoned,

And to exile cling.

"Kneel and pray to alien altars,

Worship alien gods,

Even like in cast-off garments

Deal in cast-off thoughts.

"Gather crumbs at strangers' tables.
No, your pride is gone!

For you glory that you have no
Table of your own.

"Faith, and truth, and pride-all treasures

You have prized of old;

For a lentil-pottage long since

You your birthright sold.

"You no longer feel the horror

Of a slave's disgrace..

Do you want me to respect you,
Honour such a race?

"Once you heroes had and prophets
Noble, great and true;

How much of their daring spirit
Now is left in you?

"Grandsons of the Maccabeans!
If those heroes came

Saw their servile offsprings-they would
Die again-of shame!

"Dead is all your pride and valour,
Silent is your tongue,

Tongue of bards, and kings and prophets—
You forsook it long.

"And your home that waits deserted

Do you e'er recall?

Where are all your rich and mighty-
Mammon's High Priests all?

"Like deserters they are sailing
Under foreign flags,

Lackeys that their masters' mantles

Wear to hide their rags.

"Crumbs of bread, and night of lodging—

Dare no more expect!

No, a race that lost its self-pride

No one can respect.

"This is all I came to tell you!

Now, good-bye. . . I spoke. . . .”

"Stay!" I shrieked, "I must reply you, Stay" and I awoke..

Side by Side

P. M. RASKIN.

EW and Christian, side by side,

JEW

They rest in the cool earth's bosom wide-
Or lying deep where the billows sweep,

In the heart of the great green sea they sleep!
Over them flutters the banner fair,

While a sadness thrills in the Springtide air.

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