And all our pride sank into ashes.
Elijah rose in fire to heaven,
And round the pile the congregation
Gazed with amazement at the hero.
The pride of Israel, precious gems,
Were given over to the brute,
As undefended by their chief,
Baptizing tyrants seized on those
Who were the noblest of my race.
It was the month when blossoms fresh
Are ripening into golden fruit:
My flowers had their perfume spread,
When wicked men with fiery rage
Did carry off the helpless prey.
They all, as one, resolved to die.
No ransom would the priest accept,
But harshly pressed them with his creed.
They all who pined in prison's night
Were vainly tortured all the day;
As once, at Sinai, one in mind,
They swore allegiance to their faith.
Well would they die, but not rebel;
They dreaded none, but Judah's God.
"To Him," said they, "our troth is pledged,
Away with gods, the works of stone!"
To test the fearless heroes' strength
There stood prepared the funeral pile;
And they with joy awaited death,
Like those whose bridal-day has dawned.
YES, they slay us and they smite,
Vex our souls with sore affright;
All the closer cleave we, Lord,
To thine everlasting word.
Not a word of all their Mass
Shall our lips in homage pass;
Though they curse, and bind, and kill,
The living God is with us still.
Yes, they fain would make us now,
Baptized, at Baal's altar bow;
On their raiment, wrought with gold,
See the sign we hateful hold;
And, with words of foulest shame,
They outrage, Lord, the holiest name.
We still are thine, though limbs are torn;
Better death than life forsworn.
Noblest matrons seek for death,
Rob their children of their breath;
Fathers, in their fiery zeal,
Slay their sons with murderous steel;
And in heat of holiest strife,
For love of Thee, spare not their life.
The fair and young lie down to die
In witness of Thy Unity;
From dying lips the accents swell,
"Thy God is One, O Israel";
And bridegroom answers unto bride,
"The Lord is One, and none beside";
And, knit with bonds of holiest faith,
They pass to endless life through death."
BEHOLD, O Lord, Thy faithful people!
The father slays his child, the dear one;
The mother has her task accomplished,
And sends to Thee her hallowed offspring.
Across their knees the parents brandish
The keen-edged knives for work of slaughter;
The mother ties the child,
The father makes the gash;
They say a sacrificial blessing,
For they are met to die together,
And to make known Thy holy Oneness
And one announces to the other,
"This day we keep a feast of union!"
Their children all they immolate,
As free-will gifts, as bonds of love.
HEY seized our holy congregations,
And sent among them fire, murder!
The heroes all, Thy true adorers,
Together met in convocation.
They spared no more their offspring,
Thy faith alone they honored.
The great and small, together
With mothers' babes, were slaughtered
Like offerings at the festive season.
They shouted out, "Remove your horrors,
Not them, but death we freely follow!"
And from the homes resounded wailing;
And in the streets the sword made havoc.
"C give me death!" the son entreated;
This filled the father's heart with gladness,
As though he went to joyous nuptials.
The loving hand had hushed all sorrows,
And from distress it brought deliverance;
It led the friend to blissful slumber.
EZRA BEN TANHUM.
ALTHOUGH tormented and ill-treated,
And dragged to die upon the scaffold,
We cling to Thee with growing fervor.
They strike and wound us sorely,
To turn our hearts from Him that liveth,
And to impress us with their worship.
They tempt us with enticements,
And would ensnare us with their cunning;
That we, deserting Thee, should barter
Our faith for faith in Baal's power.
Embroidered even on their vesture
Is shown to us the sign of terror.
With flattery, too, they would beguile us;
But we are Thine, though maimed and shattered!
The pious wives despatch the work
And offer up their guileless babes,
The fathers quickly slay their sons,
And wish not to survive their dead.
To render homage to Thy unity,
The young, the fair, prepare for death,
With "Hear O Israel!" on their lips.
The bride and bridegroom now breathe forth
The dying words, "The Lord is One!"
They who, in life were wedded,
Through hallowed death are reunited.
KALONYMUS BEN JUDAH.
"WHY so sad, thou princely child?"
Moloch's servants scornfully chide,
Times appear and pass away
Why does son of Jesse hide?
If your God in Heaven's height
Will bring you to His holy hill
Wherefore then we seek to know
Why His chariots linger still?
I hoped that all my foes
Would see my swift redemption;
But they mock and say: "Away as a cloud
It passeth; no hope is left for thee."
I hearken shame-filled, and my tears
Flow unresistingly.
The Massacre of the Jews at York
"And scattered and scorn'd as thy people may be, "Our worship, O Father, is only for thee." BYRON. THERE is an old and stately hall,
Hung round with many a spear and shield,
And sword and buckler on the wall
Won from the foe in tented field:
Yet there no warrior bands are seen,
With martial step and lofty mien;
But men with care, not age, grown white,
Meet in York Castle hall to-night,
And groups of maids and matrons too,
With hair and eyes, whose jetty hue
Belong to Judea's sunny land,
Are mingling with that sorrowing band:
What doth the Jew-the wandering race
Of Israel, in such dwelling place?
From persecution's deadly rage
A refuge in those walls they sought,
The zealots of a barb'rous age,
Ruin upon their tribes had brought.
All was silent without, there was not a sound,
There was not a whisper, there was not a breath
To disturb the silence still and profound,
All was hush'd as the vale of the shadow of death:
Within was tumult-loud and wild debate
'Mongst those who at that midnight council sate;
Famine was on each check, and every eye
Told fearfully of its wild ministry.
Starvation and despair their councils urg'd,
And in those feelings every other merged:
Parents almost forgot their children's cry
In their own overwhelming misery;
As the rush of the waves when the winds are in
And the storm-gods abroad on the dark heaving ocean,
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