When in her spirits first bright dream
With beaming eyes and flushing brow
She listened to Manasseh's vow,
That such a fearful hour as this
Would ever blight her dream of bliss.
She was Ben Israel's only child,
A child of one long passed away,
And he upon their loves had smil'd,
And gladly named the bridal day.

He glanc'd his eyes around, as he paused,

To mark the effect which his words had caused:
The men sat silent, and scarce drew breath,

As they heard the decree that doom'd them to death.
The mother convulsively press'd to her heart
The lov'd babe from whom she so soon was to part.
The matron seem'd bound by a holier tie

To the lord of her heart, with whom she must die.
None murmured a sound-save a few who sate
At the end of the hall, in deep debate;
The quivering limb and downcast eye
Told they were cowards who fear'd to die.
At length Ben Ephraim rose and spoke,
And at once the death-like silence broke:—
"Ben Israel," he said, “'tis a dread decree,
For we might once again be free:
We might bribe the foemen our lives to save,
And snatch our little ones from the grave."
Ben Israel rose, and dash'd the trace
Of the tears from off his rugged face

(Which had gathered there, in spite of his pride)
Then turn'd to the coward and thus replied:→
"Seek ye for mercy? ask yon man of blood
(Who dares to call himself a priest of God),
For mercy! and ye will such mercy find
As the pursuing huntsman gives the hind;
Such mercy as the hapless bird may seek
When closely clutch'd within the vulture's beak!
In yonder blood-stained city did they spare
The brave, the ag'd, the youthful, or the fair?

No! babes from their mother's breasts were torn,
And their dying shrieks on the air were borne;
Nor did they heed the father's accents wild,
Entreating them to save his darling child;

But hew'd them down like cattle, where they stood,
And wash'd out their religion in their blood!
Women of Israel! would ye not rather
Fall by the hand of a husband or father,
Than brave the insults that await
Ye, when they force the castle gate?
When the Israelites echoed the Maccabees' cry
As they raised the Asmonean banner on high,
They stayed not to think upon danger or death,
But glorified God with their last fainting breath,
And left in their country's annals a name

That will ne'er be erased from the records of fame.
Then think on the glorious dead

Of ages long gone by;

Think on the cause for which they bled,

And like them dare to die;

For the laws which our God to his prophet reveal'd,

Yes! our faith in their truth, with our blood must be

seal'd.

Depart! all ye who would be slaves,.

Nor dare disturb our latest breath:
Depart! and leave the glorious graves

For those who prefer to apostacy-Death."
A few of the weaker and cowardly-hearted,
Rose from their seats at his words and departed.
All became silent then around,

The very children hush'd their crying;

In that vast hall there was not a sound,

As Ben Israel read the prayers for the dying.
He ceased:-Five hundred voices raise
To heaven's high throne the hymns of praise,
And ever as the echoes rung,

The self-devoted victims sung-Halleluyah!

MARION AND CELIA MOss.

The Harvesting of the Roses
FROM his garden bed our Lord

Blossoms for his pleasure chose,
Who came to gather many a rose.
Nobles waited for his word;
Amidst the rage of murderous blows
They were in death to him restored.
MENAHEM BEN JACOB.

A Martyr's Death
WHERE is now Elijah's God?"

When will scoff and scorning end?

Has our God forsaken us?

Higher and higher,

Winged by fire,

Soared Elijah's sainted soul,

Bliss to earn in spheres of life.

He saw his brethren sorely tried,

And died for them a martyr's death.

MENAHEM BEN JACOB.

The Jewish Martyr

"BRING forth the Jew!" Ben Hassim said, “the

caitiff of his creed,

1

Who has reviled our holy faith, and triumphed in the deed;

Blaspheming great Mahomet's name-by Allah! he

shall die;

Upon his own accursed head the blasphemy shall lie. Woe unto thee, thou Jewish dog! if thou fail to clear the guilt

That is preferred against thee-deny it, if thou wilt! But decided proof of innocence must in clearest light be shown

Or, by Medina's holy shrine, the flame shall have her

own.

How say you, son of Israel, to the charge that's now

preferr❜d?

By Mecca! 'tis the gravest that was ever told or heard;

Be cautious, then, and have a mind you add not lie to

lie,

If truth is not found uppermost the bowstring's strength we'll try."

"I am not guilty of the charge-'tis foul and falsely made;

'Tis jealousy and malice in dreadful form convey'd Convey'd to suit the purpose of those who bring me here;

They're fellow-merchants with myself-we've traded many a year.

I never even thought the words, the blasphemy, you

name,

I swear by Heaven I'm innocent! I'll ever swear the

same;

It is against our holy creed, which teaches us to love Each and all our fellow men-'tis true, as God's above!

And not revile, or lightly speak, whate'er their creed may be;

As this is taught, so have I learnt the guilt is not with me.

"Upon the Koran's holy book the solemn truth is seal'd,

The accusation's verified-your guilt is now reveal'd. Thy star has set, thy doom is fix'd; before the setting

sun

Shall light the tops of yonder hills, know that thy course is run;

For death awaits, with greedy hand, so great a gain as

thou,

And what avails thy holy soul in such a time as now ? That boasted zeal that warms your youth, that burns

within your breast,

Mayhap we'll try; your courage, too, shall also feel the

test.

A Mufti waits, in solemn guise, say, wilt thou join his band,

And with him swell the numbers that overrun the land, Who believe in our holy Prophet-Mahomet, blest be he?

Wilt thou a Mussulman become? If so, thou shalt be free.

You'll not, and say, you'd rather die-by my faith, indeed you're true;

First hear the roar and see the blaze-you know not what you do."

The faggots flame in fiery wreath; behold a funeral

pyre;

Before its glowing embers fierce shall blanch, shall wane, expire

A sacrifice of human blood, of human flesh and bone, Must drop and crackle in that blaze-'tis there no mercy's shown.

Yet there he stands a martyr, unerring, true to God,
So earnest in his dire resolve-so firm he pac'd the sod;
Undaunted by the quiv'ring thought of the death that
did await-

A death of bitter agony, of pain and anguish great.
With arms across his stricken breast, and eyes serenely

set,

Calm was his gaze, so full of hope that speaking eye

of jet;

Upon that brow all dignified, sat piety resigned-
A piety all hallow'd, with hope and trust combin'd.
His was the hope, the vital hope, the hope that never
dies,

The light that even torture with its deadliest throes defies;

The solemn, grand, and heavenly thought, of devotion -constant, true,

That had mark'd his young and pious life, now gave him life anew;