Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882). Complete Poetical Works. 1893.
Christus: A MysteryPart II. The Golden Legend. III. IV. The Nativity: A Miracle-Play. VIII. The Village School
Throughout this village known full well,
And, as my scholars all will tell,
Learned in things divine;
The Cabala and Talmud hoar
Than all the prophets prize I more,
For water is all Bible lore,
But Mishna is strong wine.
And always, at the Purim feast,
I am as drunk as any beast
That wallows in his sty;
The wine it so elateth me,
That I no difference can see
Between “Accursed Haman be!”
And “Blessed be Mordecai!”
Say, if thy lesson thou hast got
From the Rabbinical Book or not.
Why howl the dogs at night?
The dogs howl, when with icy breath
Great Sammael, the Angel of Death,
Takes through the town his flight!
When the Angel of Death, who is full of eyes,
Comes where a sick man dying lies,
What doth he to the wight?
Holding a sword, from which doth fall
Into his mouth a drop of gall,
And so he turneth white.
What the great Voices Four may be,
That quite across the world do flee,
And are not heard by men?
The Voice of the Murmuring of Rome,
The Voice of a Soul that goeth home,
And the Angel of the Rain!
Now little Jesus, the carpenter’s son,
Let us see how thy task is done;
Canst thou thy letters say?
Go on with all the alphabet.
Come, Aleph, Beth; dost thou forget?
Cock’s soul! thou’dst rather play!
Before I any farther go!
Come hither, boy, to me.
As surely as the letter Jod
Once cried aloud, and spake to God,
So surely shalt thou feel this rod,
And punished shalt thou be!