Page:Bohemian legends and other poems.djvu/194

Then the broken-hearted mother,
Weeping, led her eldest born
To the Rabbi, saying sadly,
“Take him—let me die forlorn!
Better he should die for Israel,
If Jehovah will it so,
Than sink down beside the others,
Who are lying still and low.”
“Woman!” said the Rabbi, raising
Both his hands above her head,
“May Jehovah spare thy eldest,
For the words that thou hast said.
Like to Abraham, who offered
Isaac with a perfect heart,
May Jehovah spare thy darling,
Reunite thee ne’er to part.”
When the evening shadows gathered
In the graveyard sad and lone,
Lo, the Jewish boy was watching,
Hid behind a mighty stone.
And at midnight all the children
Rose as the Rabbi had said,
Dancing in their shrouds of linen
Till the midnight hour had fled.
Then the Jewish boy soft creeping,
Caught the shroud of one near by,
Rushed away without once turning
At the children’s bitter cry;
On he fled, fled ever onward,
Till he reached the Rabbi’s home.
At his feet he lay the garment,
Then fell senseless as a stone.
Soon the Rabbi heard a wailing,
And a childish voice called clear:
“Give me back my shroud of linen,
I am naked, master, dear.”
“Tell me,” said the Rabbin sternly,
“For whose sins the children die?”
Then the childish voice spake clearly,
Telling him the reason why.
Back he gave the child his garment,
Bid him sleep in peace for aye.
Fast and penance then he ordered,
That the plague might pass away.