Emma Lazarus

“ Oh, 't is a rosy bed Where we shall couch, compared with that whereon They lie who kindle this accursed blaze. Ye shrink? ye would avert your martyred brows From the immortal crowns the angels offer? What! are we Jews and are afraid of death? God's chosen people, shall we stand a-tremble Before our Father, as the Gentiles use? REUBEN. Shall the smoke choke us, father? or the flame Consume our flesh? SUSSKIND. I know not, boy. Be sure The Lord will temper the shrewd pain for those Who trust in Him. REUBEN. May I stand by thy side, And hold my hand in thine until the end? ”

“ SUSSKIND. I think, sir, we are in the hand of God, I trust the Prince—your father and my friend. PRINCE WILLIAM. Trust no man! flee! I have not come to-night To little purpose. Your arch enemy, The Governor of Salza, Henry Schnetzen, Has won my father's ear. Since yester eve He stops at Eisenach, begging of the Prince The Jews' destruction. SUSSKIND (calmly) . Schnetzen is my foe, I know it, but I know a talisman, Which at a word transmutes his hate to love. Liebhaid, my child, look cheerly. What is this? Harm dare not touch thee; the oppressor's curse, Melts into blessing at thy sight. ”

“ Come forth with us Unto the Synagogue. SUSSKIND. Bear with me, neighbors. Here we may weep, here for the last time know The luxury of sorrow, the soft touch Of natural tenderness; here our hearts may break; Yonder no tears, no faltering! Eyes serene Lifted to heaven, and defiant brows To those who have usurped the name of men, Must prove our faith and valor limitless As is their cruelty. One more embrace, My daughter, thrice my daughter! Thine affection Outshines the hellish flames of hate; farewell, But for a while; beyond the river of fire I'll fold thee in mine arms, immortal angel! ”

“ Our general doom, Liebhaid, is not for thee. Thou art no Jewess. Thy father is the man who wills our death; Lord Henry Schnetzen. LIEBHAID. Look at me! your eyes Are sane, correcting your distracted words. This is Love's trick, to rescue me from death. My love is firm as thine, and dies with thee. CLAIRE. Oh, Liebhaid, live. Hast thou forgot the Prince? Think of the happy summer blooms for thee When we are in our graves. LIEBHAID. And I shall smile, Live and rejoice in love, when ye are dead? SUSSKIND. My child, my child! ”

“ Make ready, Jew, for death—and warn thy tribe. SUSSKIND (kneeling) . Is there a God in heaven? I who ne'er knelt Until this hour to any man on earth, Tyrant, before thee I abase myself. If one red drop of human blood still flow In thy congealed veins, if thou e'er have known Touch of affection, the blind natural instinct Of common kindred, even beasts partake, Thou man of frozen stone, thou hollow statue, Grant me one prayer, that thou wilt look on her. Then shall the eyes of thy dead wife gaze back From out the maiden's orbs, then shall a voice Within thine entrails, cry—This is my child. ”

“ I spy peril, Fierce flame invisible from the lesser peaks. God's time is now. Delayed truth leaves a lie Triumphant. If you harbor any secret, Potent to force an ear that's locked to mercy, In God's name, now disbosom it. SUSSKIND. Kind Heaven! Would that my people's safety were assured So is my child's! Where shall we turn? Where flee? For all around us the Black Angel broods. We step into the open jaws of death If we go hence. PRINCE WILLIAM. Better to fall beneath The hand of God, than be cut off by man. SUSSKIND. We are trapped, the springe is set. ”

“ If thou shouldst meet with Fortune on thy way, Wouldst thou not follow singing, in her train? What hast thou to regret? Immortal Hope Is shaped anew in thee by Sorrow's hand. Why hate experience that enlarged thy scope? Why curse the pain that made thy soul expand? Oh pity her! so false, so fair to see, Who from thine eyes such bitter tears did press, She was a woman. God revealed to thee, Through her, the secret of all happiness. Her task was hard; she loved thee, it may be, Yet must she break thy heart, so fate decreed. ”

“ What secret misery was thine, Which set a bar 'twixt thee and me? Alas, I suffer from it still; What was this grief, this unknown ill, Which I have wept so bitterly? POET. 'T was but a common grief, well known of men. But, look you, when our heavy heart is sore, Fond wretches that we are! we fancy then That sorrow never has been felt before. MUSE. There cannot be a common grief, Save that of common souls; my friend, Speak out, and give thy heart relief, Of this grim secret make an end. Confide in me, and have no fear. The God of silence, pale, austere, Is younger brother unto death. ”

“ Lord o'er myself, I banish her, compel, And though her clouds should rain no blessed dew, Though she withhold the crown, the heart's desire, Though all deceive, though honey change to gall, Still am I lord, and will in freedom strive. MEDITATIONS. Forget thine anguish, Vexed heart, again. Why shouldst thou languish, With earthly pain? The husk shall slumber, Bedded in clay Silent and sombre, Oblivion's prey! But, Spirit immortal, Thou at Death's portal, Tremblest with fear. If he caress thee, Curse thee or bless thee, Thou must draw near, From him the worth of thy works to hear. ”

“ But past is past; he is at peace, and I Find shelter from the tempest. Tell me rather Of your serene life. LIEBHAID. Happiness is mute. What record speaks of placid, golden days, Matched each with each as twins? Till yester eve My life was simple as a song. At whiles Dark tales have reached us of our people's wrongs, Strange, far-off anguish, furrowing with fresh care My father's brow, draping our home with gloom. We were still blessed; the Landgrave is his friend— The Prince—my Prince—dear Claire, ask me no more! My adored enemy, my angel-fiend, Splitting my heart against my heart! ”

“ Rather let those arise who owe the Jews Some debt of unpaid kindness, profuse alms, The Hebrew leech's serviceable skill, Who know our patience under injury, And ye would see, if all stood bravely forth, A motley host, led by the Landgrave's self, Recruited from all ranks, and in the rear, The humblest, veriest wretch in Nordhausen. We know the Black Death is a scourge of God. Is not our flesh as capable of pain, Our blood as quick envenomed as your own? Has the Destroying Angel passed the posts Of Jewish doors—to visit Christian homes? We all are slaves of one tremendous Hour. ”

“ ANOTHER VOICE. Woe unto us who sinned! ANOTHER VOICE. We're all dead men. Fly, fly ere dawn as our forefathers fled From out the land of Egypt. BARUCH. Are ye mad? Shall we desert snug homes? forego the sum Scraped through laborious years to smooth life's slope, And die like dogs unkenneled and untombed, At bidding of a sorrow-crazed old man? A VOICE. He flouts the Lord's anointed! Cast him forth! SUSSKIND VON ORB. Peace, brethren, peace! If I have ever served Israel with purse, arm, brain, or heart—now hear me! ”

“ SUSSKIND (as he passes the platform) . Woe to the father Who murders his own child! SCHNETZEN. I am avenged, Susskind von Orb! Blood for blood, fire for fire, And death for death! [Exeunt SUSSKIND, LIEBHAID, etc.] Enter Jewish youths and maidens. YOUTHS (in chorus) . Let us rejoice, for it is promised us That we shall enter in God's tabernacle! MAIDENS. Our feet shall stand within thy gates, O Zion, Within thy portals, O Jerusalem! [Exeunt.] CITIZEN'S WIFE. I can see naught from here. Let's follow, Hans. CITIZEN. Be satisfied. There is no inch of space For foot to rest on yonder. ”

“ God is just, And every man of us is doomed. Alack! HE said it—oh those wild, white eyes! PRINCE WILLIAM. I pray you, Tell me the way to Susskind's home. JEW. Sweet master, You look the perfect knight, what can you crave Of us starved, wretched Jews? Leave us in peace. The Judengasse gates will shut anon, Nor ope till morn again for Jew or Gentile. PRINCE WILLIAM. Here's gold. I am the Prince of Meissen—speak! JEW. Oh pardon! Let me kiss your mantle's edge. This way, great sir, I lead you there myself, If you deign follow one so poor, so humble. ”

“ Even as a tawny flock of huddled sheep, Grazing each other's heels, urged by one will, With bleat and baa following the wether's lead, Or the wise shepherd, so o'er the Moldau bridge Trotted the throng of yellow-caftaned Jews, Chattering, hustling, shuffling. At their head Marched Rabbi Jochanan ben-Eleazar, High priest in Prague, oldest and most revered, To greet the star of Israel. As a father Yearns toward his son, so toward the noble Raschi Leapt at first sight the patriarch's fresh old heart. "My home be thine in Prague! Be thou my son, Who have no offspring save one simple girl. ”

“ For I would frame a song to-day Winged like a bird to cleave its way O'er land and sea that spread between, To where a Queen Sits with a triple coronet. Genius and Sorrow both have set Their diadems above the gold— A Queen three-fold! To her the forest lent its lyre, Hers are the sylvan dews, the fire Of Orient suns, the mist-wreathed gleams Of mountain streams. She, the imperial Rhine's own child, Takes to her heart the wood-nymph wild, The gypsy Pelech, and the wide, White Danube's tide. ”

“ Upon the wings of storms may bear The heavy burden of their care. The father's heart may harden so, He feeleth not his own child's woe. No ocean is the cup, no sea, To drown my broad, deep misery. It grows so rank, you cut it all, The aftermath springs just as tall. My heart and flesh are worn away, Mine eyes are darkened from the day. The lovely morning-red behold Wave to the breeze her flag of gold. The hosts of stars above the world, Like banners vanishing are furled. The dew shines bright; I bide forlorn, And shudder with the chill of morn. ”

“ And "The New Ezekiel:"— "What! can these dead bones live, whose sap is dried By twenty scorching centuries of wrong? Is this the House of Israel whose pride Is as a tale that's told, an ancient song? Are these ignoble relics all that live Of psalmist, priest, and prophet? Can the breath Of very heaven bid these bones revive, Open the graves, and clothe the ribs of death? Yea, Prophesy, the Lord hath said again: Say to the wind, come forth and breathe afresh, Even that they may live, upon these slain, And bone to bone shall leap, and flesh to flesh. The spirit is not dead, proclaim the word. ”

“ The banner of thy grace did o'er me rest, Yet was thy worship banished from my breast. Almighty, thou didst seek me out and test To try and to instruct me in the night. I dare not idly on my pillow lie, With winged feet to the shrine I fain would fly, When chained by leaden slumbers heavily, Men rest in imaged shadows, dreams of night. Infatuate I trifled youth away, In nothingness dreamed through my manhood's day. Therefore my streaming tears I may not stay, They are my meat and drink by day and night. In flesh imprisoned is the son of light, This life is but a bridge when seen aright. ”

“ O poverty! MUSE. My poet, take thy lyre. Youth's living wine Ferments to-night within the veins divine. My breast is troubled, stifling with desire, The panting breeze has set my lips afire; O listless child, behold me, I am fair! Our first embrace dost thou so soon forget? How pale thou wast, when my wing grazed thy hair. Into mine arms thou fell'st, with eyelids wet! Oh, in thy bitter grief, I solaced thee, Dying of love, thy youthful strength outworn. Now I shall die of hope—oh comfort me! I need thy prayers to live until the morn. POET. Is it thy voice my spirit knows, O darling Muse! ”

“ The sunbeam glitters in the morning dew, O'er hill and vale youth's bloom is surging on. Cup-bearer! quench with snow the goblet's fire, Even as the wise man cools and stills his ire. Look, when the jar is drained, upon the brim The light foam melteth with the heart's desire. Cup-bearer! bring anear the silver bowl, And with the glowing gold fulfil the whole, Unto the weak new vigor it imparts, And without lance subdues the hero's soul. My love sways, dancing, like the myrtle-tree, The masses of her curls disheveled, see! ”

“ Beware, for midst our virgins there is one Owes kinship nor allegiance to our tribe. For her dear sake be pitiful, my lords, Have mercy on our women! Spare at least My daughter Liebhaid, she is none of mine! She is a Christian! SCHNETZEN. Just as I foretold! The wretches will forswear the sacred'st ties, Cringing for life. Serpents, ye all shall die. So wills the Landgrave; so the court affirms. Your daughter shall be first, whose wanton arts Have brought destruction on a princely house. SUSSKIND. My lord, be moved. You kill your flesh and blood. ”

“ Our friends in Strasburg have been overmastered, The imperial voice is drowned, the papal arm Drops paralyzed—both, lifted for the truth; We can but front with brave eyes, brow erect, As is our wont, the fullness of our doom. PRINCE WILLIAM. Then Meissen's sword champions your desperate cause. I take my stand here where my heart is fixed. I love your daughter—if her love consent, I pray you, give me her to wife. LIEBHAID. Ah! SUSSKIND. Prince, Let not this Saxon skin, this hair's gold fleece, These Rhine-blue eyes mislead thee—she is alien. ”

“ Exclaimed the angel Justice, "he shall be Subject to me, and peace shall bloom again. Create, oh Lord, create!" "Father of truth," Implored with tears the angel Truth, "Thou bring'st Upon the earth the father of all lies!" And over the celestial faces gloomed A cloud of grief, and stillness deep prevailed. Then from the midst of that abyss of light Whence sprang the eternal throne, these words rang forth: "Be comforted, my daughter! Thee I send To be companion unto man on earth." ”

“ What avail grief and fasting, Where nothing is lasting? Pomp, domination, Become tribulation. In a health-giving draught, A death-dealing shaft. Wealth—an illusion, Power—a lie, Over all, dissolution Creeps silent and sly. Unto others remain The goods thou didst gain With infinite pain. Life is a vine-branch; A vintager, Death. He threatens and lowers More near with each breath. Then hasten, arise! Seek God, O my soul! For time quickly flies, Still far is the goal. Vain heart praying dumbly, Learn to prize humbly, The meanest of fare. Forget all thy sorrow, Behold, Death is there! ”

“ Reenter SUSSKIND. SUSSKIND. Brethren, our prayer, being the last, is granted. The hour approaches. Let our thoughts ascend From mortal anguish to the ecstasy Of martyrdom, the blessed death of those Who perish in the Lord. I see, I see How Israel's ever-crescent glory makes These flames that would eclipse it, dark as blots Of candle-light against the blazing sun. We die a thousand deaths,—drown, bleed, and burn; Our ashes are dispersed unto the winds. Yet the wild winds cherish the sacred seed, The waters guard it in their crystal heart, The fire refuseth to consume. ”

“ SUSSKIND. Lord Tettenborn! Citizens! will you see this nameless crime Brand the clean earth, blacken the crystal heaven? Why, no man stirs! God! with what thick strange fumes Hast thou, o' the sudden, brutalized their sense? Or am I mad? Is this already hell? Worshipful fiends, I have good store of gold, Packed in my coffers, or loaned out to—Christians; I give it you as free as night bestows Her copious dews—my life shall seal the bond, Have mercy on my race! TETTENBORN. No more, no more! Go, bid your tribe make ready for their death At sunset. RABBI JACOB. Oh! SUSSKIND. At set of sun to-day? ”