To Young Israel

HOW cloudy is the sky!—

And thou, thou askest me

If there’s in Heav’n a God,

A God of Liberty.

Oh, child, oh, ask me not!

I couldn’t lie.

How cloudy is the sky,

How gloomy is the world

But thou, thou art the same

From land to land though twirled

Thy lips yet spell the name;

“Help, Adonai!”

Don’t listen to thy foes!

My child, thy aim is near:

Thou willst not be their prey

Thy deeds are good and clear

They are the thistles, they—

Thou art the rose.

Don’t listen to thy foes!

Their Saviour was, too

A son of thine by birth:

Tell them that He—a Jew—

Brought them redemption on earth;

To heaven he rose.

Don’t be afraid of them,

They tell the same old lie—

Thou need’st their children’s blood—

But, child, they vainly try

To stamp thee in the mud

’Tis but a flam!

Don’t be afraid of them,

Jehovah is thy guide;

Thou, tribe of worthy men,

Thou’llst be the nation’s pride,

“The world’s gem.”