Our lives, our tears as water Yet God a means hath found, A means whereby his banished RUDYARD KIPLING. A Sonnet To the Beloved Memory of Robert Browning To you, than is the knell of surging bar, When night-winds raving, dreamer's peace perturb, With blood and fire, and hell-groans from the curb, Shrined in the tales you wrote in days afar, Brave sharer in our nether fates, you bore Israel's death-crown, voiced his feeble rights, Stood weeping by his side, and mourning wore, In those black days, whose memory still frights, Still casts its spectral hue athwart the brain, And feeds the heart with hopeless endless pain. M. L. R. BRESLAR. The Hebrew Mind IFTS, as romantic as the cruse of oil, GIF I 701 Found in the days of mad Antiochus, Were brewed by Hadrian from henbane: sp For Israel's quaffing; potions, framed A nation's growth, they met w Tempt never genius, with devil's juice! History sheds a tear of wonder blind; Mere vessels those, Balaam's sent to bless, They scourged with fire and sword, till the dread ban Flowered, like Aaron's rod of loveliness, And forged that wondrous thing, the Hebrew mind. M. L. R. BReslar. Who Gives in Love NAUGHT is there in life worth living, Save it flavored be by love; ISIDOR WISE. An Invocation impen OH, harp of Judah! wake again! only bet Can no heart-stirring melody Imbued with light and touched with fire, Flow from a nation proud and free Whose past must urge them to aspire? Reproach, an ignominious sea, Can follow in our wake no more; The poisoned waves of calumny Are washed away from Freedom's shore. The justice of a nobler age Has reached and raised our scattered race; Our history shows a fairer page, Our future wears a brighter face. The rooted weeds of narrow thought Are crushed and buried with the dead. A loftier sense of heavenly things, A wider view of human life Beyond man's vain imaginings, Is Israel's faith that never dies, The boon of slaves-the pride of Kings- And who asserts that Judah's claim When all the earth contains her fame That spreads and widens evermore; The truths that sanctify her creed Shall scatter hopes where'er they shine, Until all men shall feel the need Of her own unity divine. So wake, my harp, my fingers press The burden of unuttered songs; ISIDORE G. ASCHER. O Adas Israel ISRAEL! in the morn's returning light, Thy temple stands, all crowned with splendor bright, And there, high Salem's courts again shall tell • Jehovah's praise, and faith of Israel. The watchman on thy long benighted walls Hath marked the night's departing gloom, and calls; The dawn of freedom on a darkened earth, Through long oppression, God hath guided thee, And now, no more thy race oppressed shall be, Their richest offerings to thy sovereign King O Israel! wandering in all lands afar, M. BEYER. Poetry OD made the world with rhythm and rime— GOD The sun's refrain he made the moon; He swung the stars to beat in time And set the universe in tune. Was woven in the scheme of things. To-day this wonder was revealed I heard it in the singing rain. The streams intoned it as they ran, And then I saw how closely knit Were God and Poetry with man. A rift of sky-a group of trees, Like sudden music, swept my heart; The world God made with rhythm and rime. |