Between Two Stools
JED will not keep the Jewish Sabbath, not he, Because the Church has otherwise ordained; Nor yet the Christian for he does not see How alt'ring the day can be maintained; Thus seeming for to doubt of keeping either He halts betwixt them both and so keeps neither.
The Rabbi's Present
A RABBI once, by all admired,
Received, of high esteem the sign
From those his goodness thus inspired,
A present of a cask of wine.
But lo! when soon he came to draw,
A miracle in mode as rapid
But quite unlike what Cana saw,
Had turned his wine to water vapid.
The Rabbi never knew the cause,
For miracles are things of mystery;
Though some like this have had their laws
Explained from facts of private history.
His friends whom love did aptly teach,
Wished all to share the gracious task,
So planned to bring a bottle each,
And pour their wine in one great cask.
Now one by chance thought, "None will know,
And with the wine of all my brothers
One pint of water well may go;"
And so by chance thought all the others.
ERE lies Nachshon, man of great renown,
Who won much glory in his native town;
'Twas hunger that killed him, and they let him die
They give him statues now, and gaze, and sigh— While Nachshon lived, he badly wanted bread, Now he is gone, he gets a stone instead.
(Translated by Joseph Chotzner.)
All Things To All Men ADAPT thyself to time and circumstance
So wilt thou be untroubled every way. Amongst the wise make wise thy countenance And with the fool the role of dullard play; Roar, if upon a lion thou shouldst chance; But if an ass thou meetest simply bray.
BEN JOSEPH PALQUERA. (Translated by Harry W. Ettelson.)
MISER once dreamed he had given away
Some bread to a beggar hed'd met in the day. He woke with a start and solemnly swore
That as long as he lived he would slumber no more.
(Translated by Joseph Chotzner.)
The Wife's Treasure
(Midrash Yalkut, Chapter 17)
T Sidon lived a husband with his wife
For ten long years, leading a tranquil life,
With but a single grief-they had no child,
And, to his barren lot unreconciled,
The man upon it brooded. Then he bent
His steps to Rabbi Simeon, with intent
To be divorced; and to the woman's tears
He steeled his heart, and said: "Ten happy years
In peacefulness with thee, true heart, I spent ;
Staunch wert thou ever, nor a word to smart
Escaped thy lips. And now, before we part,
I will accord the treasure thou dost find
In thy old home best suited to thy mind.
Take it; whate'er it be, it shall be thine,
To solace thee when thou no more art mine."
Then said the Rabbi Simeon: "O ye pair!
Before ye separate, a feast prepare,
And pledge each other in the ruddy wine;
Then the feast ended, woman, unto thine
Own father's house do thou repair."
That very night the supper board was spread,
According to the law; one seated at the head,
The other at the bottom. To the brim
The woman filled the bowl and passed it to him,
And then he pledged her, and she filled again,
And he the goblet to his wife did drain
Once more, with many wishes good and fair,
But she the generous liquor did not spare,
Until he fell into a drunken sleep,
With head upon the table, heavy and deep.
And thus concluded the farewell carouse.
So then, she took him up with gentle care
Upon her shoulder, and her husband bare,
Nodding and drowsing, to her father's house,
And laid him on the bed.
He started up and said: "Woman! I pray,
Tell me, where am I?"
"You promised me that nought should be denied
To me of what I valued. I could find,
In all thy house, thee only to my mind,
And I have borne thee hither; now I trow
That thou art mine; I will not let thee go.
When I was thine, thou wouldst be quit of me;
Now thou art mine, and I will treasure thee!"
SABINE BARING-GOULD.
THE Feast's begun
And the Wine is done,
So my sad tears run
Like streams of water, streams of water.
Three score and ten were Wine's bold braves,
But a full score more were Water's knaves,
And silent are our watery graves.
For-whence tuneful note?
When the minstrel's throat
Tastes naught but Water, Water, Water!
Around the board you see no smile;
Untasted dishes rest in file,
How can I touch these dainties while
There stands my cup
To the brim filled up
With hated Water, Water, Water!
Old Moses chid the Red Sea tide,
And Egypt's dusky streams he dried,
Till Pharaoh's fools for Water cried!
But Moses dear,
Why dost thou here
Turn all to Water, hated Water?
Can I myself to aught compare?
To the frog who damp in watery lair,
With dismal croakings fills the air.
So frog and I.
The song of Water, the dirge of Water.
The man whom water can delight
For aught I care may turn Nazirite;
Total abstention shall be his plight!
And all his days
To his lips shall raise
Cups of Water, always Water!
The Feast is done,
And Wine there's none;
Like streams of Water, streams of Water.
SOLOMON IBN GABIROL.
(Translated by Israel Abrahams.)
FULL sweet of a truth is the sparkle of wine,
But sorely we miss this blessing divine,
And how can we waken a song or a laugh
When we find that we simply have nothing to quaff
But water, mere water?
The banquet has little contentment to bring,
Bears little incitement to joke or to sing,
When the potions we hoped to our future would
Turn out in the end to be nothing at all,
Good Moses of old caused the waters to flee,
And led all his people dryshod o'er the sea;
But Moses, our host, at the precedent frowns,
And us, his poor guests, he unflinchingly drowns
In water, cold water.
We sit round the table like cold-blooded frogs,
Who live out their lives in the watery bogs;
Well, if we have fallen on watery days,
Let us, too, like them, croak a pæan in praise
Of water, dear water.
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