Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/27

Rh The Wise, the Elect, the Help-of-God, The Burst-of-Spring, the Avenging Rod.

From Mizpeh's mountain-ridge they saw
 * Jerusalem's empty streets, her shrine

Laid waste where Greeks profaned the Law,
 * With idol and with pagan sign.

Mourners in tattered black were there. With ashes sprinkled on their hair.

Then from the stony peak there rang
 * A blast to ope the graves: down poured

The Maccabean clan, who sang
 * Their battle-anthem to the Lord.

Five heroes lead, and following, see, Ten thousand rush to victory!

Oh for Jerusalem's trumpet now.
 * To blow a blast of shattering power,

To wake the sleepers high and low,
 * And rouse them to the urgent hour!

No hand for vengeance—but to save, A million naked swords should wave.

Oh deem not dead that martial fire.
 * Say not the mystic flame is spent!

With Moses' law and David's lyre,
 * Your ancient strengrth remains unbent.