Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/129

Rh Benedicite ! Oar bird makes meny hia dull bars with Bong, Tet would Dot penitential pBalms accord More fitly with yonr sin than minBtrelB' lays ?

I know no blot apon my life's fair record. What is it to wantou with a Christ - cursed Jewess, Defy thy father and pollute thy name, And fling to the ordures thine immortal soul ? Forbear ! thy cowl 'a a helmet, thy serge dock Invulnerable as brass — yet I am human, Thou, priest, art still a man. Pity him, Heaven ! To what a pass their draughts have brought the mildest, Noblest of princes ! Softly, my son ; be ruled By me, thy spiritual friend and father. Thou hast been drugged with sense-deranging potions, Thy blood set boiling and thy brain askew ;