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TRANSLATIONS FROM HEBREW POETS.
181
Wealth — an illusion,
Power — a lie.
Over all, disaolation
Creeps silent and sly.
Unto others remain
The goods thon didst gain
With infinite pain.
Life is a vine-branch ;
A vintager, Death.
He threatens and lowers
More near with each breath-
Then hasten, arise !
Seek God, O my soul !
For time quickly Sies,
Still far is the goal.
Vain heart praying donibly,
Learn to prize humbly,
The meanest of fare.
Foi^et all thy sorrow,
Behold, Death is there !
Dove-like lamenting,
Be full of repenting,
Lift vision snpemal
To raptures eternal.
On ev'ry occasion
Seek lasting salvation.
Four thy heart out in weeping,
Wliile others are sleeping
