Now Die Away, My Tuneful Song
NOW die away, my tuneful song,
A mournful time veils ancient grief
In recent shrouds.
WITHOUT, the lonely night is sweet with stars:
But me an ancient grewsome tale has bound
Of them He chose and later cast aground
As on a raging sea to drift like spars.
Great God! Was it but mockery Thy choice?
Is martyrdom the highest crown you give?
And shall a People, maimed and fugitive,
Be bearer of the thunder of Thy Voice?
Burn low, my lamp, I cannot further read;
The woes of countless thousands o'er me flood!
From out the shadows lurid shapes arise:
Of executioners who foam with greed,
Of "holy" swords that drip with infants' blood,
Of flames that roar and shapes that agonize!
Behold! What strange procession do I see?
Before my vision dimmed with tears of rage,
Emerging as from mists that mar the page,
In sadness stern they tread so solemnly.
The shadows grimly lie to left and right
Like huge and moving forests o'er them bent: Up winds the road in tortuous ascent, And far and faint a Peak in misty white.
And see! From out the lurking shadows leap
Uncanny shapes of beasts with howl and shriek!
White flash their fangs, like points of fire their
eyes!
The victims fall and neither groan nor weep;
Each lifts his eyes unto the gleaming Peak
And cries: "The Lord our God is One!" and dies!
And yet the night is sweet with stars: away
Then put the tale of martyrs red with blood,
Of them He chose to prove in fire and flood,
Of saints defiled, and blazing auto-da-fé.
Come! Ope your lattice: why forever read?
The million-jewelled heavens are awake
As when to Abraham the Voice outspake:
"As numberless as Heaven's stars thy seed!"
Sweet, friendly stars! Your splendor calm
Has not since then diminished by a gleam!
Are ye not witness to the promise still?
Then, heir of sorrow, purge your heart of qualm!
Shall bitterness of soul dislodge the dream?
The Peak still glimmers: thrill, my spirit, thrill!
RUFUS LEARSI.
THY faithful sons, whom Thou in love hast owned, Behold! are strangled, burnt and racked and stoned;
Are broken on the wheel; like felons hung;
Or, living, into noisome charnels flung.
I see them yonder, of their eyes bereft,
And there their mangled limbs in twain are cleft.
Beneath the wine-press are their bodies drawn,
Crushed, drowned, or with harsh saws asunder sawn.
SWIFT as birds of prey, they darted
On our helpless men and women,
Making martyrs of our people.
But they slew the body only,
And the soul escaped uninjured.
They assailed us with false pretexts,
Yea, with wrongful accusations—
"For the festive season," said they,
"Ye have slain a Christian infant!"
Yet, withal, they promised pardon,
If our faith we would relinquish.
None of the believers faltered!
First was Samuel executed;
Next his wife, and then his daughter,
Son's wife, brothers, and their offspring.
Simchah bent his head in prayer;
Joseph and his race we honor,
For he went to death in triumph.
Moses stood in fire encircled,
Followed by his son and daughter;
Who, entwined, would join their father.
Israel's tears in streams were flowing;
Nor could tears the flames extinguish.
Also Shabtai and his consort,
Who would not their faith abandon,
Were consumed to dust and ashes.
Gracious Lord, behold these victims,
Who in death the truth attested,
"God is One, there is no other!"
MENAHEM BEN JACOB.
THOU, to whom my name bears witness,
Be not silent, I entreat Thee;
Leave not hid mine ebbing life's blood!
High above in heaven's regions,
Far and wide in halls of learning,
And where people meet together,
Be my sacrifices published!
How my tender infants perished;
How their tortures laid me prostrate,
Learn to know their deeds of horror!
We were crushed and rent asunder,
Until corpse by corpse lay buried.
When suffering under tryant's torture,
Our wives would practise priestly functions,
And sacrifice their cherished offspring;
While on the mother's knee they nestled,
The woeful work was calmly finished;
As if they went to sleep in quiet.
No heed was given to the precept,
"Slay not the young one with its mother";
For now no sheep from folds were taken.
Tied down like lambs prepared for slaughter,
There perished fathers, sons, whole households;
And God was hallowed in his glory.
When they beheld the pictured idols,
They cried: Depart! let us be murdered!
DAVID BEN MESHULLAM.
CRUEL foes with hate inflamed,
Aimed at us their fatal blow;
Guileless was the man they seized;
And when savagely they slew him,
Angels came and bade him welcome;
Took his soul in charge, and blessed it.
O'er him Zion's daughter weepeth,
Israel for Elijah mourneth,
With the Holy One communing.
"Throughout the kingdom of the nations,
Who can be equalled to Thy people?
They followed Thee through flame and flood
As none on earth have followed Thee."
Alas! our hearts within us melted,
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