Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/180

162 Woe unto us who perish ! Susskind von Orb, Thou hast brought down this doom. Would we had heard The prophet's voice !

Brethren, my cup is full ! Oh let us die as warriors of the Lord. The Lord is great in Zion. Let our death Bring no reproach to Jacob, no rebuke To Israel. Hark ye ! let us crave one boon At our assassins' hands; beseech. them build Within God's acre where our fathers sleep, A dancing-floor to hide the fagots stacked. Then let the minstrels strike the harp and lute, And we will dance and sing above the pile. Fearless of death, until the flames engulf. Even as David danced before the Lord, As Miriam danced and sang beside the sea. Great is our Lord ! His name is glorious In Judah, and extolled in Israel ! In Salem is his tent, his dwelling place In Zion ; let us chant the praise of God !