Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917.
By Isidore MyersSong for Friday Night
T
That chasest our cares and our sorrows away,
O come with good fortune, with joy and with peace,
To the homes of thy pious, their bliss to increase!
From the clear candelabra shines many a light;
All men in the finest of garments are dress’d,
As far as his purse, each hath got him the best.
New feelings are born and old feelings are dead;
Yes, suddenly vanish black care and grim sorrow,
None troubles concerning the things of tomorrow.
Of everyday matters now hush’d is all speech;
At rest are all hands that have toil’d with much pain;
Now peace and tranquillity everywhere reign.
Can ever such exquisite pleasure afford
As the Friday-night meal when prepared with due zeal
To honour thee, Sabbath, thou day of sweet rest!
Come on Friday betimes in pure homes to abide,
In the homes of the faithful that shine in their bliss,
Like souls from a world which is better than this!
At thy left doth the other, the bad Angel, stand;
Compell’d ’gainst his will to say “Amen,” and bless
With the blessing he hears the good Angel express:
We may lustily welcome thee, free from all pain,
In the fear of the Lord, and with joy in our heart,
And again keep thee holy till thou shalt depart!
To the homes of thy pious, their bliss to increase!
Already we’ve now been awaiting thee long,
All eager to greet thee with praise and with song.