Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917.
By P. C. L.Jerusalem
J
Thy Kings wander crownless, pale ghosts of the past;
Thy beauty, thy valor, thy might, are all dead;
But Hope is still left thee—’tis all that thou hast!
And the war-steed lies bleeding along the red earth;
Though thy towers have crumbled long since into dust,
And the songs of the Priests but in sorrow have birth;
And breathe in the war-horse, strength, power, and might;
Thy ramparts, Oh Salem! shall tower again,
And the Priests’ Holy Temple arise in thy sight.
Thy God liveth ever; He is mighty to save;
The diadem yet shall encircle thy brow,
When those who now rule, shall have passed in the grave.
And the harp will again sound thy triumph and praise;
Nor sorrow, nor blight, will e’er shadow with gloom,
The Sun of thy Glory, the Light of thy Days.
And quake in thy presence with dread and alarm;
For strong are the people, who rest them secure
In the Faith of His word, and the Might of His arm.