Zionism

THE DREAMERS are not dead in Israel.

To-day the young dream dreams, and with the old

Live visions of a deathless past. They dwell

In every land, yet hills of Zion hold

More glory than the fame of kings can bring;

More hope than ages have preserved.

The voices of a golden morning ring

With victories, extolling gifts reserved

For those who ’neath the vine and fig tree sit,

And people realms bereft of ancient charms.

The souls of prophets with their souls are knit,

And martyred heroes call again to arms

The sons of Judah. Stars of morning shine,

And dawn breaks o’er an orphaned Palestine.