The Outgoing of Sabbath

THE SHADOWS have taken the place of the sun,

The Sabbath is over, the glory is gone;

With the gold of the sunset the new soul has flown,

And God, He has shattered his heavenly throne

And closed the effulgent gold gates of the sky,

And the peace and the dream and the rapture all die;

And childhood, the cherub, behold; it takes wing—

A usurper has stolen the crown of the king!

The shew-bread is eaten, no dainties are left,

Of silver and china the table’s bereft;

The cover of damask is folded away,

And the household is wrapped in dreariness gray,

The poesy paused, and the weekday’s dull prose

Ascended the throne—the thorn for the rose!

No candles are lighted for mothers to bless,

The queen’s jewels are hidden and changed is her dress;

The Talith is folded, the incense suppressed,

The golden-clasped Bible is laid in the chest;

A fire is set to the drippings of wine,

The Habdalah light quenched in the smouldering shine;

The last of the wine cup is drained by the young,

And Zemiroth, last strain of the Sabbath is sung;

Unaccountable sadness, some shadowy pain

On the mind and the memory lies like a stain;

The heart with the tumult of being is tossed,

The swords they are blazing, the Paradise ’s lost!

The shadow—the shadow replaces the sun,

The last strain of Sabbath’s Zemiroth is sung.