James Oppenheim
HEBREWS
I come of a mighty race. . . . I come of a very mighty race. . . .
Adam was a mighty man, and Noah a captain of the moving waters,
Moses was a stern and splendid king, yea, so was Moses. . . .
Give me more songs like David's to shake my throat to the pit of the belly,
And let me roll in the Isaiah thunder. . . .
Ho! the mightiest of our young men was born under a star in the midwinter. . . .
His name is written on the sun and it is frosted on the moon. . . .
Earth breathes him like an eternal spring: he is a second sky over the Earth.
Mighty race! mighty race!—my flesh, my flesh
Is a cup of song,
Is a well in Asia. . . .
I go about with a dark heart where the Ages sit in a divine thunder. . . .
My blood is cymbal-clashed and the anklets of the dancers tinkle there. . . .
Harp and psaltery, harp and psaltery make drunk my spirit. . . .
