Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/43

Laughing with bloom, across the Caucasus,
The interminable sameness of bare steppes,
Through dark luxuriance of Bohemian woods,
And issuing on the broad, bright Moldau vale,
Entered the gates of Prague. Here, too, his fame.
Being winged, preceded him. His people swarmed
Like bees to gather the rich honey- dew
Of learning from his lips. Amazement filled
All eyes beholding him. No hoary sage,
He who had sat in Egpyt at the feet
Of Moses ben-Maimuni, called him friend;
Raschi the scholiast, poet, and physician,
Who bore the ponderous Bible's storied wisdom,
The Mischna's tangled lore at tip of tongue.
Light as a garland on a lance, appeared
Li the just-ripened glory of a man.
From his clear eye youth flamed magnificent;
Force, masked by grace, moved in his balanced frame;
An intellectual, virile beauty reigned
Dominant on domed brow, on fine, firm lips.
An eagle profile cut in gilded bronze.
Strong, delicate as a head upon a coin.
While, as an aureole crowns a burning lamp.
Above all beauty of the body and brain
Shone beauty of a soul benign with love.
Even as a tawny flock of huddled sheep,