Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/353

Rh The death-blow to his heart? Cheat not thy soul With empty dreams—thy God hath judged thee guilty!

Have pity, father ! Let me tell thee all. Thou, cloistered, holy and austere, know st not My glittering temptations. My betrayer Was of an angel s aspect. His were all gifts, All grace, all seeming virtue. I was plunged, Deaf, dumb, and blind, and hand-bound in the deep. If a poor drowning creature craved thine aid, Thou wouldst not spurn it. Such a one am I, And all the waves roll over me. Help, help ! Let me not perish ! Wrest me from my doom ! Say not that I am lost !

I can but say What the just Spirit prompts. Myself am naught To pardon or condemn. The sin is sinned ; The fruit forbid is tasted, yea, and pressed Of its last honeyed juices. Wilt thou now Escape the after-bitterness with prayers, Scourgings, and wringings of the hands? Shall these Undo what has been done?—make whole the heart