Page:Poems of Emma Lazarus vol 2.djvu/56

Slight deed of common kindness sown yields not
As now, as here, abundant crop of love.
Every good act of man, our Talmud says.
Creates an angel, hovering by his side.
Oh! what a shining host, great Duke, shall guard
Thy consecrated throne, for all the lives
Thy mercy spares, for all the tears thy ruth
Stops at the source. Behold this poor old man,
Last of a line of princes, stricken in years,
As thy dead father would have been to-day.
Was that white beard a rag for obscene hands
To tear? a weed for lumpish clowns to pluck?
Was that benignant, venerable face
Fit target for their foul throats' voided rheum?
That wrinkled flesh made to be pulled and pricked.
Wounded by flinty pebbles and keen steel?
Behold the prostrate, patriarchal form.
Bruised, silent, chained. Duke, such is Israel!"
"Unbind these men!" commanded Vladislaw.
"Go forth and still the tumult of my town.
Let no Jew suffer violence. Raschi, rise!
Thou who hast served the Christ—with this priest's life.
Who is my spirit's counselor—Christ serves thee.
Return among thy people with my seal.
The talisman of safety. Let them know
The Duke's their friend. Go, publish the glad news!"