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Home  »  The Standard Book of Jewish Verse  »  A Tale from the Talmud

Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917.

By William Dearness

A Tale from the Talmud

IN Judah, in the days of story,

When chronicles were gilt with glory,

Heroic dames and virgins then

The equal honors earned with men;

And God himself the prophet taught

To praise and bless them as he ought.

My heart exults to contemplate,

My rhyme runs eager to relate

Their courage firm, their high resolve,

Their faith that nothing could dissolve.

Oh, that enthusiasm strong

Would from the theme inspire the song;

That in this sad, degenerate time

I’d write in poetry sublime—

What might some grace of emulation

Raise in a faint and prostrate nation.

I leave to men of deeper knowing

The task of God’s inerrant showing;

How nature’s best and noblest sons

Are cursed and crushed by worthless ones;

But this I know, that virtues holy

Are brightened by contrasting folly,

And constant courage best was shown

When persecutors had the throne,

And columns high had ne’er been reared,

Had no invading foe appeared;

And when to desperate straits we’re brought,

Then God’s deliverance is wrought.

When Judah by the Gentile arms

Had seen th’ extreme of war’s alarms,

O’erthrown her temple and her city,

Her children slaughtered without pity;

The demon conqueror intended

Her name and fame should both be ended.

He thought one dreadful, dire example

Of horrid torture might be ample,

Now that Jehovah’d them forsaken

And from his folk his flight had taken.

One matron from the drove he chooses,

Her seven sons he also looses;

In public presence will them test,

To answer his supreme behest.

The eldest, he him sets before;

“Now, bending down, our gods adore.”

“The Lord forbid,” he reverent cries;

“His holy law such act denies.

I to no image—neither thee—

Shall kiss the hand nor bend the knee.”

His life made forfeit then was taken—

His trust in Israel’s God unshaken.

The next that sacred household cherished,

Who witnessed how his brother perished,

At once responded: “Shall I less

Than his my faith in God confess?

I love God’s law—its second word

Is none but he is Israel’s Lord.”

And so he died for truth and faith.

The third, undaunted, also saith:

“None but Jehovah worship I”—

And likewise he was drawn to die.

The fourth the traitor’s awful doom

Sets forth: “Who in Jehovah’s room

Shall worship hero, god or demon”—

His young life, too, the sword makes claim on.

“Our God is one,” the Scripture saith,

“And him alone I’ll own in death.”

So died the fifth; our watchword brave

Fresh courage to the next one gave:

“Jehovah—terrible is he

Who, Israel, dwells in midst of thee;

He may his awful plans conceal,

But in his time he’ll them reveal.”

So passed the youthful sixth, in dying,

“Jehovah, take me,” meekly sighing.

Assuming now a tender mien

The tyrant pleads: “My boy, you’ve seen

How vain it is to trust in one

Who utmost unconcern has shown.

’Tis only to respect our law—

I’d put your countrymen in awe;

For Rome, supreme, must be obeyed—

Nor gods nor emperor gainsaid.

The test from thee’s a simple thing—

In front of Jove I’ll drop my ring,

Stoop down and pick it up; no thought

Of inferential change is wrought.”

The bright-cheeked boy, his eyes upturned,

The tyrant’s seeming mercy spurned;

His soul kept free from heathen stains

Breaks forth in rapt prophetic strains:

“Forever reigns our glorious Lord—

Performed shall be his faithful word;

His kingdom raised, while ruined thine

He’ll to oblivion consign.

As chastened Israel suffers now,

So shall he purer offerings vow.

His faith in days that have gone by

Endear him to his God most high,

And future glories wait the day

When all mankind shall own his sway;

“But thou might’st save thy soul if He

Were but to show His power to thee.”

He thus to Chaldea’s king made known

His sovereign Lord and God alone.

The prostrate king the word obeyed

And favor found and humbly prayed.

To God’s own folk he mercy showed

And so was blessed in his abode;

But thou, nor truth nor mercy giving,

Are but for greater vengeance living.

“To death!” the raging tyrant cries.

Prevention weak the mother tries,

With arms enfolding makes her plea:

“O let him not be torn from me—

My seventh, my last, my life, my all!

On me let first thy vengeance fall.

Sword, come on me, nor let me see

The death of one so dear to me!”

“Nay, nay,” the scoffer made reply,

“Your law forbids that you should die;

‘Ye dare not slay the dam that day

Ye take the offspring’s life away.’”

“Thou scourge of man, thou hand of God!

Thy sins thy guilty soul shall load,

Till down to depths thou shalt be driven,

Transcending all that fell from heaven.

But go, my son, when Abra’m thou

In blissful peace shalt meet, avow

Superior reverence to me—

For I gave seven, but one gave he—

But tempted was his faith when tried,

See mine performed—my Isaacs died.

“What shall I add?” Her reason flown,

Why should she linger here alone—

Wandering unguarded, heedless, fell

She whom her Lord had honored well.

Has Judah now no valiant dame

That might such awful honors claim?

For answer: In my northern home

You’ll see, ere wintry weather come,

The fields the cheery flowers adorn,

Bejeweled bright at early morn;

Then fierce the driving, biting storm

Will bare the meads of every form

That spring and summer spread around

So lavish on the fertile ground.

But brightly then the heather bell

Purple the hills I love so well.

When dangerous foxgloves, crimson clover

Lie hid till winter storms are over;

The bloom upon the Arcadian hills

Is blown by that which verdure kills.

If Judah’s winter comes again,

Her hero dames shall bloom amain.