Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/95

Blistered, refuseth to narrate more woe.
I have known much sorrow. When it pleased the Lord
To afflict us with the horde of Fastoureaux,
The rabble of armed herdsmen, peasants, slaves.
Men-beasts of burden — coarse as the earth they tilled,
Who like an inundation deluged France
To drown our race — my heart held firm, my faith
Shook not upon her rock until I saw,
Smit by God's beam, the big black doud dissolve.
Then followed with their scythes, spades, clubs, and banners
Flaunting the Cross' the hosts of Armleder,
From whose fierce wounds we scarce are healed to-day.
Yet do I say the cup of bitterness
That Israel has drained is but a draught
Of cordial, to the cup that is prepared.
The Black Death and the Brothers of the Cross,
These are our foes — and these are everywhere.
I who am blind see ruin, in their wake ;
Ye who have eyes and limbs, arise and flee I
To-morrow the Flagellants will be here.
God's angel visited my sleep and spake :
" Thy Jewish kin in the Thuringian town
Of Nordhausen shall be swept off from earth.
Their elders and their babes — consumed with fire.