Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/194

 Then the broken-hearted mother,
 * Weeping, led her eldest born

To the Rabbi, saying sadly,
 * Take him—let me die forlorn!

Better he should die for Israel,
 * If Jehovah will it so,

Than sink down beside the others,
 * Who are lying still and low.”

Woman!” said the Rabbi, raising
 * Both his hands above her head,

May Jehovah spare thy eldest,
 * For the words that thou hast said.

Like to Abraham, who offered
 * Isaac with a perfect heart,

May Jehovah spare thy darling,
 * Reunite thee ne’er to part.”

When the evening shadows gathered
 * In the graveyard sad and lone,

Lo, the Jewish boy was watching,
 * Hid behind a mighty stone.

And at midnight all the children
 * Rose as the Rabbi had said,

Dancing in their shrouds of linen
 * Till the midnight hour had fled.

Then the Jewish boy soft creeping,
 * Caught the shroud of one near by,

Rushed away without once turning
 * At the children’s bitter cry;

On he fled, fled ever onward,
 * Till he reached the Rabbi’s home.

At his feet he lay the garment,
 * Then fell senseless as a stone.

Soon the Rabbi heard a wailing,
 * And a childish voice called clear:

Give me back my shroud of linen,
 * I am naked, master, dear.”

Tell me,” said the Rabbin sternly,
 * For whose sins the children die?”

Then the childish voice spake clearly,
 * Telling him the reason why.

Back he gave the child his garment,
 * Bid him sleep in peace for aye.

Fast and penance then he ordered,
 * That the plague might pass away.