Recognition

SO—you have “recognized” the Jew?

Then—just perchance—you may have noticed, too,

And “recognized” the hills that pierce the sky

And hold their heads in pure, star-studded blue,

Whose heights command your plains which dully lie,

And dare not dream. You “recognized,” perhaps,

The dark, thick shade of forests, æons old;

The mellow splendor of the moon that wraps

The night in glory, and the ruddy gold

That lies deep hidden in the pregnant earth

Perhaps you “recognize.” The liquid mirth

And tender passion of a mountain stream

You “recognize”; the potence of a dream

May still be “recognized”—who knows?—by you,

Since, wisely, now you “recognize” the Jew.