Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/153

Rh [How dear thou art to me — heart of my heart, Mine, mine, all mine to-day ! the pioas thought, The orient spirit mine, the Jewish soul. The glowing veins that aucked life-nourishment From Hebrew mother's milk. Look at me, Liebhaid. Tell me you love me. Pity me, my God ! No fiercer pang than this did Jephthah know. Father, what wild and wandering words are these ? Is all hope lost ?

Nay, God Is good to us. I am 80 well assured the town is safe, That I can weep my private losB — of thee. An ugly dream I had, quits not my sense. That you, made Princess of Thuringia, Forsook your father, and forswore your race. Forgive me, Liehh^d, I ani calm again, We must be brave — I who besought my tribe To bide their fate in Nordhansen, and you Whom God elects for a peculiar lot. With many have I talked; some crouched at home. Some wringing hands about the public ways. I gave all comfort. I am very weary. My children, we had heat go in and pray. Solace and safety dwell but in the Lord. [Exeant.