Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/240

222 Thus he spoke and ceased. The Abbot
 * Lent him an impatient hearing,

Then outbroke with angry accent,
 * "We have borne three years, thou sayest?

Tis enough; my vow is sacred.
 * These shall perish with their brethren.

Hark ye! In my veins' pure current Were a single drop found Jewish,

"I would shrink not from outpouring
 * All my life blood, but to purge it.

Shall I gentler prove to others?
 * Mercy would be sacrilegious,

"Ne'er again at thy soul's peril,
 * Speak to me of Jewish beauty,

Jewish skill, or Jewish virtue.
 * I have said. Do thou remember."

Down behind the purple hillside
 * Dropped the sun; above the garden

Bang the Angelus' clear cadence
 * Summoning the monks to vespers.