Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/178

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THE DANCE TO DEATH.

SEVERAL VOICES.

Woe ! woe I God pity us !

1st jew.

Hie ye within, and take a last farewell
Of home, love, life — put (m your festal robes.
So wills the Babbi, and come forth at once
To pray till sunset in the Synagogae.

AN OLD MAN.

O God ! Is this the portion of mine age ?
Were my white hairs, my old bones spared for this?
Oh cruel, cruel !

A YOUNG GIRL.

I am too young to die.
Save me, my father! To-morrow should have been
The feast at Rachel's house. I longed for that,
Counted the days, dreaded some trivial chance
Might cross my pleasure — Lo, this horror comes !

A BRIDE.

Oh love ! oh thou just-tasted cup of joy
Snatched from my lips ! Shall we twain lie with death,
Dark, silent, cold -— whose every sense was tuned