| |
| UNDER shining, under shadow, | |
| At the gates of every land, | |
| All adown the lengthening ages, | |
| Men have seen a Sentry stand; | |
| Looming grandly on the beauty | 5 |
| Of the blue day’s crystal light, | |
| Then anon, in darkness blending | |
| With mystery of night; | |
| While his meditations linger | |
| Over glories that are past, | 10 |
| And his keen prophetic vision | |
| Sees the good to come, at last. | |
| |
| At the portals of some nations, | |
| We beheld him, as he stands | |
| Pale and haggard, weak and weary, | 15 |
| With his grey head in his hands, | |
| Bowed in retrospective sorrow, | |
| For the infamy and scorn, | |
| For the ages of oppression | |
| By his people meekly borne; | 20 |
| Till his features are transfigured | |
| In a blaze of wrath divine, | |
| And his glassy eyes brim over | |
| With their bitter burning wine. | |
| |
| At another gate we see him, | 25 |
| In the vigor of full prime | |
| Mounted on a stalwart courser, | |
| For some charge or quest sublime; | |
| Be it to go forth to battle, | |
| In a cause of righteous strife, | 30 |
| Winning liberty, or glory, | |
| With the purchase of his life. | |
| Or, at least, to gain his guerdon, | |
| And be named among the great, | |
| By the aid of wealth’s distinction, | 35 |
| Or some service to the State. | |
| |
| Otherwhere, we see him, seated | |
| Underneath the arches vast | |
| Of some old arcade, surrounded | |
| With the records of the past. | 40 |
| Over ancient tomes he ponders, | |
| Filled with figures rude and strange, | |
| Yet their contents he deciphers | |
| Through Time’s labyrinthine range; | |
| Then to poesy he turneth | 45 |
| And in numbers sweet recites: | |
| Or he wakes the soul of music | |
| In the harp whose chords he smites. | |
| |
| Once again we see him, crouching | |
| On a devastated strand, | 50 |
| Silent as the Sphinx of Egypt | |
| Billowed in the surging sand, | |
| For the lash of persecution, | |
| Heedless of all human right | |
| Fell upon him, watching, waiting, | 55 |
| Till he sank beneath its might. | |
| And he lies there, bruised and bleeding | |
| But a brave old hero still, | |
| Hoping for his destined future, | |
| When his Fate has wrought its will. | 60 |
| |
| Nations, do you know this Sentry, | |
| Keeping guard, for ages long, | |
| Over learning, arts, religion, | |
| Through all cruelty and wrong? | |
| Patient under dire oppression, | 65 |
| While the iron pierced his soul; | |
| With no armor for protection; | |
| With no weapon but a Scroll— | |
| His one treasure; hear him crying, | |
| “Though I die, let this be true!” | 70 |
| Is not his the voice of Jacob? | |
| Yes! it is—it is—the Jew. | |
| |
| Say you that his crime demanded | |
| Punishment from God and men? | |
| Nay! With God alone be vengeance; | 75 |
| He is merciful. But when | |
| Man metes out his ruthless judgments, | |
| With a mad presumption blind, | |
| He wreaks cruelties of demons | |
| On the weaker of his kind. | 80 |
| It is not for his defection | |
| That the Jew has met the sword: | |
| Christians slay their fellow-Christians, | |
| In the name of their own Lord. | |
| |
| Has he sinned—this Jew immortal? | 85 |
| Ay; but he is not alone; | |
| Christ is crucified forever | |
| In the House He calls His own. | |
| Multitudes bow down before Him | |
| And profess to own his sway, | 90 |
| While their hearts are filled with idols, | |
| And they, Judas-like, betray | |
| Him who comes, as their Messiah, | |
| And their fealty would claim; | |
| But they pierce His soul with sorrows, | 95 |
| Shouting praises to His name. | |
| |
| Sinned the Jew? Well; he has suffered. | |
| When he saw his judgment come | |
| He bowed meekly to his sentence; | |
| Like the shorn lamb, he was dumb: | 100 |
| Bearing shame, contempt, revilings, | |
| Grief and anguish, pain and death; | |
| Only saying: “God is holy; | |
| He is One,” with latest breath. | |
| Like to Christ, in his submission | 105 |
| He has met a martyr’s fate. | |
| But his resurrection cometh; | |
| Though it tarry, he can wait. | |
| |
| Yes! Already we perceive him, | |
| Rising up on every hand; | 110 |
| Gliding into power and station, | |
| With the world’s wealth at command. | |
| In the forum, in the senate, | |
| Lo! he wins immortal fame, | |
| Halls of learning, marts of commerce, | 115 |
| Ring with echoes of his name, | |
| On each plane of high endeavor | |
| He is foremost in the strife | |
| Culling everlasting laurels | |
| From the battlefields of Life. | 120 |
| |
| So God’s ancient, chosen people | |
| As His Sentinel still stands | |
| With the standard of Jehovah | |
| In the strong, uplifted hands; | |
| With his jewelled breastplate gleaming | 125 |
| On his proudly heaving chest; | |
| And a lamp forever burning, | |
| On his helmet’s lofty crest; | |
| While he welcomes the down-trodden | |
| To his hospitable shores, | 130 |
| And in streams of richest bounty | |
| Blessings on his brethren pours. | |
| |
| Standing thus, as great exemplar | |
| To the world, the Jew appears; | |
| Bringing hope, as well as warning, | 135 |
| To Humanity’s late years, | |
| Showing how, as King, God ruleth, | |
| When mankind would test His sway, | |
| Yet is tender as a Father | |
| When, as children, they obey. | 140 |
| Prophet, statesman, warrior, scholar, | |
| Israel’s glories shall increase, | |
| When he claims his royal birthright; | |
| Brother to the Prince of Peace. | |
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