The light died from his eyes. From depths profound
Issued his grave, great voice : " Alas for Zion !
Verily is she fallen ! Where our race
Dictated to the nations, not a handful,
Nay, not a score, not ten, not two abide !
One, only one, one solitary Jew,
The Rabbi Abraham Haceba, flits
Ghostlike amid the ruins ; every year
Beggars himself to pay the idolaters
The costly tax for leave to hold a-gape
His heart's live wound ; to weep, a mendicant,
Amidst the crumbled stones of palaces
Where reigned his ancestors, upon the graves
Where sleep the priests, the prophets, and the kings
Who were his forefathers. Ask me no more ! "
Now, when the French Jew's advent was proclaimed,
And his tumultuous greeting, envious growls
And ominous eyebeams threatened storm in Prague.
" Who may this miracle of learning be ?
The Anti-Christ ! The century-long-awaited,
The hourly-hoped Messiah, come at last !
Else dared they never wax so arrogant.
Flaunting their monstrous joy in Christian eyes,
And strutting peacock-like, with hideous screams.
Who are wont to crawl, mute reptiles underfoot."