Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917.
By C. M. KohanThe God of Israel
T
And methought He mocked the dead;
The twisted limbs of agony,
The staring eyes of dread,
The lips that froze on a dying prayer
And blessed Him as they bled.
And He mocked His people’s trust;
He heard the tyrant’s blasphemy,
He saw the Injustice just;
He saw the valley strewn with death
And the wind that blew its dust.
(He smiled as if He heard):
“Behold, dishonour is their shroud
For that they keep Thy Word:
They strangle them with thongs of shame
Or hew them with the sword.
They trample down their pride;
The silent souls of the yet unborn
Lie maimed in the soul of the bride;
In bitterness their hearts awake,
In bitterness abide.
They gaze upon the past,
Nor worship they Thy Word the less,
Nor scorn Thy Word at last,
Who, free within Thy bounteous air,
In bonds of hate are cast.
But other bonds are base
That cleave the heart’s benignant will,
Or darken for a space
The eyes of reason and of right.”
Yea, thus I cried apace.
As on a babbling child;
But I saw the bays of victory,
And Justice undefiled,
And Mind and Honour hand in hand,
And Envy reconciled.
Flung off its mourning-hood,
When Joy upraised her veil again
And found the Future good;
She raised the folds of her lustrous cloak
There—clear-eyed Duty stood.