Made a stranger and outcast, as each of my folk, Is there aught that ye know for which I can atone? Must the woes of my fathers be also my yoke, As I pass in and out here, scarce noticed, alone?" But the court, in its splendid and festal array, Was at loss for reply, although touched to the core, And seemingly deaf to his resonant lay, They saw him bow low and pass out at the door. With a heart that was sad, he strode forth from the gate Of the town that he loved, into woodland and glen, This minstrel of Judah, elected by fate. To utter true songs to the children of men. O Susskind of Trimberg! O Troubadour Jew! The harp that was David's was held in thy hand! And the words thou hast chanted, tho' broken and few, Have sustained us and cheered us in far distant lands. Praise for Susskind, his country beloved as his home, And for neighbors and kinsfolk-all peoples are one. The Father who formed us, to all does He come, And His blessing abides when a good deed is done. RABBI JOSEPH LEISER 145 THE RABBI'S DAUGHTER "Canst thou say thy God was honest Rabbi Gamliel would have answered, "Thieves into our house have broken, "Would that such a great misfortune Happened to me every day!" Said the scorner, but the maiden, "See, the theft is cleared away!" "Mean I not the rib exactly, But the way in which 'twas done! Why could not the man have seen it— Gift and miracle in one?” Then a piece of meat the maiden She the quibbler did invite. Peace," said he, "I never relish "That which seeing maketh common, THE TALMUD 146 GIFTS "Oh, World-God, give me Wealth!" the Egyptian cried. His prayer was granted. High as Heaven behold Palace and Pyramid; the brimming tide Of lavish Nile washed all his land with gold. Armies of slaves toiled ant-wise at his feet; World-circling traffic roared through mart and street; His priests were gods; his spice-balmed kings, enshrined, Set death at naught in rock-ribbed charnels deep. Seek Pharaoh's race to-day, and ye shall find Rust and the moth, silence and dusty sleep. "Oh, World-God, give me Beauty!" cried the Greek. His prayer was granted. All the earth became Plastic and vocal to his sense; each peak, Each grove, each stream, quick with Promethean flame, Peopled the world with imaged grace and light. Of diamond-pointed thought and golden tongue. Go seek the sunshine-race; ye find to-day A broken column and a lute unstrung. "Oh, World-God, give me Power!" the Roman cried. His prayer was granted. The vast world was chained A captive to the chariot of his pride; The blood of myriad provinces was drained To feed that fierce, insatiable red heart. Invulnerably bulwarked every part With serried legions and with close-meshed Code; Within, the burrowing worm had gnawed its home; A roofless ruin stands where once abode Th'imperial race of everlasting Rome. "Oh, Godhead, give me Truth!" the Hebrew cried. His prayer was granted. He became the slave Of the Idea, a pilgrim far and wide, Cursed, hated, spurned, and scourged with none to save. The Pharaohs knew him, and when Greece beheld, EMMA LAZARUS 147 THE MERCY OF GOD They have a saying in the East:- And holds the other in command. MATTHEW RICHEY KNIGHT |