Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/119

Rh Naked waist-upward. Blood is trickling down Their lacerated flesh. What do they carry ?

Their scourges -—iron-pointed, leathern thongs, Mark how they lash themselves - the statet Flagellants. The Brothers of the Gross -^ hark to their cries !

Atone, ye mighty ! God is wroth ! Expel The enemies of heaven -— raze their homes !

Woe to God's enemies I Death to the Jews ! They poison all our wells — they hring the plague. Kill them who killed our Lord! Their homes shall be A wilderness — drown them in their own blood ! [The Lakoobaye and Sohnbtzen withdraw from the window, Do not the people ask the same as I ? Is not the people's voice the voice of God ?

I will consider.