Before red flashes

Told of stormy night.

She looked afar, through misty ages vast,

And saw her progeny the scorn of men, Far scattered, trod to earth to rise again,

And hold distinction, though the world. should last

Till sun and planets fell in void of time And light was scant as when the world was born.

She saw her sons surmount the stings of scorn

With sad eyes and with brow of care; sublime

In aspect, her breast throbbing with new life;

Beheld universal motherhood's young Cease their dire bickerings.

She stood among

The children of the earth unstirred by strife;

Saw creeds lose force in the long ages' span.

One God, one hope, and peace o'erspread the earth,

Regenerative man's new heart at birth, The soul's broad scope, and brotherhood of man.

CHARLES M. WALLINGTON.

BUT WHO SHALL SEE? BUT who shall see the glorious day When, throned on Zion's brow, The Lord shall rend that veil away Which hides the nations now?

When earth no more beneath the fear Of his rebuke shall lie;

When pain shall cease, and every tear Be wiped from every eye.

Then, Judah, thou no more shalt mourn
Beneath the heathen's chain;
Thy days of splendor shall return,
And all be new again.

The Fount of Life shall then be quaffed
In peace by all who come!

And every wind that blows shall waft Some long-lost exile home!

THOMAS MOORE (1779-1852).

THE LATTER DAY.

"AND ZION BE THE GLORY YET."

O TRIBE of ancestry, be dumb, thy parchment roll review!

What is thy line of ancestors to that which boasts the Jew?

The ancient Briton, where is he? The Saxons, who are they?

The Norman is a fleeting shade-a thing

of yesterday.

But he may boldly lift his eyes and spread his hands abroad,

And say, "Four thousand years ago my sires on Canaan stood."

O, who shall dare despise the Jew, whom God hath not despised, Nor yet forsaken in His wrath, though long and sore chastised? From many a distant land the Lord shall bring His people forth, And Zion be the glory yet and wonder of the earth.

ANONYMOUS.

ZION'S MORNING.

ZION, awake!

Thy night is at an end,
Thy dawn has come,

Thy sun at last has risen,
Above thee once again
The glory rests;-
Arise and shine!

Ages of troubled sleep,
Long years of feverish dreams,
Have been thy lot, since first,
From the deep blood-filled cup,
In madness thou didst drain
Wine of astonishment;
And the dark sleep began!

The Roman battle-axe

Has thundered at thy gates; The Roman torch laid low Thy marble shrine;

The Roman plough thy sides Has furrowed o'er and o'er ;Yet thou hast slept!

The tramp of Moslem feet, Clang of crusading steel, The sound of endless war, Voices of foe and friend, The wailing of thy sons,

Have all been vain; Thou hast not waked!

At length, awake, arise!
Put on thy glorious strength,
In beauty deck thyself;
Go forth to meet thy King,
Who comes in love and might,
In majesty and joy;
Thine own anointed King!

HORATIUS BONAR (1808-1889).

THE HARP OF ZION.

THE harp of Zion sleepeth
In the shadow of the hill;
The child of promise weepeth
His weary exile still:
The ages of his sorrow

Flow on like Jordan's stream;
He looketh for the morrow,
But cannot see its beam.

No beam of heaven discloseth
His father's land of birth;
His footstep ne'er reposeth
In the nations of the earth:
To them he blindly holdeth
The lamp he cannot see;
While darkness deep enfoldeth
The homes of Galilee!

Yet not, O God, for ever

Thou'lt judge him in thy wrath; But bid the darkness sever

Above his destined path:

In thy dread book is written
The period of his doom;

And the vale thy curse has smitten,
As a garden yet shall bloom.

Even now the destined ages
Are closing o'er the land;
And every sign presages

The morn again at hand:
The darkness swiftly weareth,
Light trembles from the shore;
Each wind of heaven prepareth
The wanderer to restore!

JAMES WILLIS (1790-1868).

JERUSALEM'S DAYSPRING.

Thy light is come!
Zion, arise and shine.

He comes, with His own hand to press Each wrinkle from thy care-worn

brow;

'Tis joy, and song; and mirth, and bliss, Ali Hallel and Hosanna now.

HORATIUS BONAR (1808-1889).

THE RESTORATION OF ISRAEL.

Daughter of Zion, from the dust,
Exalt thy fallen head;
Again in thy Redeemer trust,

He calls thee from the dead.

Awake, awake, put on thy strength, Thy beautiful array;

The day of freedom dawns at length, The Lord's appointed day.

Rebuild thy walls, thy bounds enlarge
And send thy heralds forth;
Say to the South,-"Give up thy charge,
And keep not back, O North!"

They come, they come;-thine exiled bands,

Where'er they rest or roam, Have heard thy voice in distant lands, And hasten to their home.

Thus, though the universe shall burn,
And God his works destroy,
With songs the ransomed shall return,
And everlasting joy.

JAMES MONTCOMERY (1771-1854).

THE CHOSEN ONES OF ISRAEL.

THE chosen ones of Israel are scatter'd far and wide:

Where flows the lordly Tiber, where rolls the Atlantic tide

By Danube's winding waters, by Hudson's crystal springs,

Dwell the myriad descendants of the Prophets and the Kings.

Abroad along the valleys are their habitations found

They are hunters in the forest, and tillers of the ground

The rising sun beholds them in torrid realms afar,

And on their broken legions looks down the northern star.

In the old world's crowded cities, in the prairies of the new,

Unchanged amid all changes, to their faith forever true

Alike by Niger's fountains and by Niagara's flood

Still flow, unmix'd, the currents of the

grand, heroic blood.

Ye mourn your lasting exile, your temple strewn in dust,

Yet forget not ye the promise of the righteous and the just

Ye know ye shall be gathered, from every clime and shore,

And be again the chosen of Jehovah

evermore.

From Assyria, Egypt, Elam-from Patmos, Cush, Shinar

From Hamath, and the islands of foreign seas afarFrom all the earth's

four corners, where Israel's children roam, Shall the dispers'd of Judah throng to their long promis'd home. And again, like some high mountain

whose tops are crown'd with snow, Shall the Temple's thousand turrets in the golden sunset glow

And again before their altars shall the congregations stand,

On thy plains, O, lov'd Jerusalem! the happy, holy land!

And it shall come to pass that the remnant in that day,

Upon the Lord of Hosts above, the

great I AM, shall stay:

And the escap'd of Jacob, from the paths which they have trod,

Shall return to him that smote themyour fathers' mighty God! PARK BENJAMIN (1809-1864).

THE JEWS.

WHEN the fair year

Of your Deliverer comes,

And that long frost which now benumbs Your hearts shall thaw; when angels here

Shall yet to man appear,
And familiarly confer

Beneath the oke and juniper;
When the bright Dove,

Which now these many, many springs
Hath kept above,

Shall with spread wings

Descend, and living waters flow

To make drie dust, and dead trees grow;

Might live and see the olive bear
Her proper branches, which now lie
Scattered each where,

And, without rot and sap, decay,
Cast by the husbandman away!
And sure it is not far!

For as your fast and foul decays,

Fore running the bright morning star, Did sadly note his healing rays Would shine elsewhere, since you were blind,

And would be cross when God was kinde,

So, by all signs

Our fullness, too, is now come in; And the same sun, which here declines And sets, will few hours hence begin To rise on you again, and look

Toward old Mamre and Eschol's brook.

Faith sojourn'd first on earth in you; You were the dear and chosen stock: The arm of God, glorious and true,

Was first reveal'd to be your rock.

You were the eldest child; and, when
Your stony hearts despisèd love,
The youngest, ev'n the Gentiles, then
Were chear'd your jealousies to move.

Thus, Righteous Father! doest thou deal

With brutish man: thy gifts go round By turns, and timely, and so heal The lost son by the newly found. HENRY VAUGHAN (1621-1695).

ZIONISM.

THE story that Herzl told was true-
Too bitter true for tears;
The blood-marked trail of the homeless
Jew

Winds back two thousand years.

Walled out by hate from the Gentile's heart,

And lashed by senseless lies,