Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/170

162 'Tis two full hours past noon; he should be here. Ah see, he comes. Great God ! what woe has chanced ? He totters on his staff ; he has grown old Since he went forth this mom. {Enter Susskinb.)

Father, what news ?

The Lord have mercy! Vain is the help of man. Children, is all in order ? We must start At set of sun on a long pilgrimage. So wills the Landgrave, so the court decrees. What is it, father ? Exile?

Yea, just that We are banished from our vexed, uncertain homes, 'Midst foes and strangers, to a land of peace, Where joy abides, where only comfort is. Banished from care, fear, trouble, life — to death.