See to our converts-you doomed black dozen-
No stealing away-nor cog nor cozen!
You five, that were thieves, deserve it fairly;
You seven, that were beggars, will live less sparely;
You took your turn and dipped in the hat,
Got fortune—and fortune gets you, mind that!
Give your first groan-compunction's at work;
And soft! from a Jew you mount to a Turk,
Lo, Micah, the selfsame beard on chin
He was four times already converted in!
Here's a knife, clip quick-it's a sign of grace—
Or he ruins us all with his hanging face.
Whom now is the bishop a-leering at?
I know a point where his text falls pat.
I'll tell him to-morrow, a word just now
Went to my heart and made me vow
I meddle no more with the worst of trades-
Let somebody else pay his serenades!
Groan altogether now, whee-hee-hee!
It's a-work, it's a-work, ah, woe is me!
It began, when a herd of us, picked and placed, Were spurred thro' the Corso, stripped to the waist; Jew brutes, with sweat and blood well spent
To usher in worthily Christian Lent.
It grew, when the hangman entered our bounds,"
Yelled, pricked us out to his church like hounds;
It got to a pitch, when the hand indeed
Which gutted my purse, would throttle my creed:
And it overflows, when, to even the odd,
Men I helped to their sins help me to their God.
But now, while the scapegoats leave our flock
And the rest sit silent and count the clock,
Since forced to muse the appointed time
On these precious facts and truths sublime,-
Let us fitly employ it, under our breath,
In saying Ben Ezra's Song of Death.
For Rabbi Ben Ezra, the night he died,
Called sons and sons' sons to his side,
And spoke, "This world has been harsh and strange;
Something is wrong: there needeth a change.
But what, or where? at the last or first?
In one point only we sin, at worst.
"The Lord will have mercy on Jacob yet,
And again in his border see Israel set.
When Judah beholds Jerusalem,
The stranger-seed shall be joined to them:
To Jacob's House shall the Gentiles cleave.
So the Prophet saith and his sons believe.
"Ay, the children of the chosen race
Shall carry and bring them to their place:
In the land of the Lord shall lead the same,
Bondsmen and handmaids. Who shall blame,
When the slaves enslave, the oppressed ones o'er
The oppressor triumph for evermore?
"God spoke, and gave us the word to keep:
Bade never fold the hands nor sleep
'Mid a faithless world,-at watch and ward,
Till Christ at the end relieve our guard.
By his servant Moses the watch was set:
Tho' near upon cock-crow, we keep it yet.
"Thou! if thou wast he, who at mid-watch came,
By the starlight, naming a dubious name!
And if, too heavy with sleep-too rash
With fear-O thou, if that martyr-gash
Fell on thee coming to take thine own,
And we gave the Cross, when we owed the Throne
"Thou art the Judge. We are bruised thus.
But, the Judgment over, join sides with us!
Thine, too, is the cause! and not more thine
Than ours, is the work of these dogs and swine,
Whose life laughs through and spits at their creed!
Who maintain thee in word, and defy thee in deed!
"We withstood Christ then? Be mindful how
'At least we withstand Barabbas now!
Was our outrage sore? But the worst we spared,
To have called these-Christians, had we dared!
Let defiance to them pay mistrust of thee,
And Rome make amends for Calvary!
"By the torture, prolonged from age to age,
By the infamy, Israel's heritage,
By the Ghetto's plague, by the garb's disgrace,
By the badge of shame, by the felon's place,
By the branding-tool, the bloody whip,
And the summons to Christian fellowship,—
"We boast our proof that at least the Jew
Would wrest Christ's name from the Devil's crew.
Thy face took never so deep a shade
But we fought them in it, God our aid!
A trophy to bear, as we march, thy band,
South, East, and on to the Pleasant Land!"
(Pope Gregory XVI abolished this bad business of the Sermon.-R. B.)
The Guardian of the Red Disk
(Spoken by a citizen of Malta-1300)
A CURIOUS title held in high repute,
One among many honors, thickly strewn
On my Lord Bishop's head, his grace of Malta.
Nobly he bears them all,-with tact, skill, zeal,
Fulfils each special office, vast or slight,
Nor slurs the least minutia,-therewithal
Wears such a stately aspect of command,
Broad-cheeked, broad-chested, reverend, sanctified,
Haloed with white about the tonsure's rim,
With dropped lids o'er the piercing Spanish eyes
(Lynx-keen, I warrant, to spy out heresy);
Tall, massive form, o'ertowering all in presence,
Or ere they kneel to kiss the large white hand.
His looks sustain his deeds,-the perfect prelate,
Whose void chair shall be taken, but not filled.
You know not, who are foreign to the isle,
Haply, what this Red Disk may be, he guards.
'Tis the bright blotch, big as the Royal seal,
Branded beneath the beard of every Jew.
These vermin so infest the isle, so slide
Into all byways, highways that may lead
Direct or roundabout to wealth or power,
Some plain, plump mark was needed, to protect
From degrading contact Christian folk.
The evil had grown monstrous: certain Jews
Wore such a haughty air, had so refined,
With super-subtile arts, strict, monkish lives,
And studious habit, the coarse Hebrew type,
One might have elbowed in the public mart
Iscariot, nor suspected one's soul-peril.
Christ's blood! it sets my flesh a-creep to think!
We may breathe freely now, not fearing taint,
Praised be our good Lord Bishop! He keeps count
Of every Jew, and prints on cheek or chin
The scarlet stamp of separateness, of shame,
No beard, blue-black, grizzled or Judas-colored,
May hide that damning little wafer-flame.
When one appears therewith, the urchins know
Good sport's at hand; they fling their stones and mud,
Sure of their game. But most the wisdom shows
Upon the unbelievers' selves; they learn
Their proper rank; crouch, cringe, and hide,-lay by
Their insolence of self-esteem; no more
Flaunt forth in rich attire, but in dull weeds,
Slovenly donned, would slink past unobserved;
Bow servile necks and crook obsequious knees,
Chin sunk in hollow chest, eyes fixed on earth
Or blinking sidewise, but to apprehend
Whether or not the hated spot be spied.
I warrant my Lord Bishop has full hands,
Guarding the Red Disk-lest one rogue escape!
EMMA LAZARUS.
Rabbi Ben Ezra
ROW old along with me!
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in His hand
Who saith: "A whole I planned,
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all,..
Look not thou down but up!
To uses of a cup,
The festal board, lamp's flash and trumpet's peal,
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