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TRANSLATIONS FROM HEBREW POETS.
189
A DEGENERATE AGE.
Where is the man who has been tried and found strong and sound ?
Where is the friend of reason and of knowledge ?
I see only sceptics and weaklings.
I see only prisoners in the durance of the senses.
And every fool and every spendthrift
Thinks himself as great a master as Aristotle.
Think'st thou that they have written poems ?
Call'st thou that a Song ?
I call it the cackling of ravens.
The zeal of the prophet must free poesy
From the embrace of wanton youths.
My song I have inscribed on the forehead of Time,
They know and hate it — for it is lofty.
