Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/184

166 [The doors of the Synagogue are burst open with tumultuous twise. Citizens and officers rush in, Come forth! the sun sets. Come, the Council waits ! What! will ye teach your betters patience? Out! The Governor is ready. Forth with you, Curs ! serpents ! Judases ! The bonfire bums ! [Exeunt,

Here 's such a throng ! Neighbor, your elbow makes An ill prod for my ribs. I am pushed and squeezed. My limbs are not mine own.

Look this way, wife. They will come hence, — a pack of just-whipped curs. I warrant you the stiff-necked brutes repent To-day if ne'er before.