The Last Sabbath Light

THE LAST lone Sabbath candle sheds

Its light as pure as Torah;

Three other wicks as black as night

Lie spent in the Menorah.

Without, the darkness gathers thick;

The window panes are frozen—

“Oh, God, let not for my last breath

A pall of gloom be chosen.

“On me a mother’s tears were shed

One evening of each seven;

So gather up my dying flame

And build a star in heaven.”