Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/131

Rh Nanght, nanght, -as yet. Sweet Prince, be calm; you leap like flax to flame. You nest within your heart a cockatrice, Pluck it from out your boROm and breathe pure Of the filthy egg- The Landgrave brooks no more The abomination that infecta his town. The Jewa of Nordhausen are doomed.

Alack Who and how many of that harmless tribe, Those meek and pious men, have been elected To glnt with innocent blood the oppressor's wrath ?

Who ahould go free where eqoal guilt is Bhared? Froderick is just-they perish all at onca, Generous moreover-for in their mode of death He grants them choice.

My father had not lost The human Bemblance when I saw him last. Nor can be be divorced in thia ahort space From his shrewd wit. How shall he make provision