Hebrew Literature - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Afar from Thee in midst of life I die, And life in death I find, when Thou art nigh.
Alas! I know not how to seek Thy face, Nor how to serve and wors.h.i.+p Thee, Most High.
Oh! lead me in Thy path, and turn again My heart's captivity, and break in twain The yoke of folly: teach me to afflict My soul, the while I yet life's strength retain.
Despise not Thou my lowly penitence, Ere comes the day, when, deadened every sense, My limbs too feeble grown to bear my weight, A burden to myself, I journey hence.
When to the all-consuming moth a prey, My wasted form sinks slowly to decay, And I shall seek the place my fathers sought, And find my rest there where at rest are they.
I am on earth a sojourner, a guest, And my inheritance is in her breast, My youth has sought as yet its own desires, When will my soul's true welfare be my quest?
The world is too much with me, and its din Prevents my search eternal peace to win.
How can I serve my Maker when my heart Is pa.s.sion's captive, is a slave to sin?
But should I strive to scale ambition's height, Who with the worm may sleep ere fall of night?
Or can I joy in happiness to-day Who know not what may chance by morning's light?
My days and nights will soon, with restless speed, Consume life's remnant yet to me decreed; Then half my body shall the winds disperse, Half will return to dust, as dust indeed.
What more can I allege? From youth to age Pa.s.sion pursues me still at every stage.
If Thou art not my portion, what is mine?
Lacking Thy favor, what my heritage?
Bare of good deeds, scorched by temptation's fire, Yet to Thy mercy dares my soul aspire; But wherefore speech prolong, since unto Thee, O Lord, is manifest my heart's desire?
JEHUDA HALEVI.
O Soul, With Storms Beset!
O soul, with storms beset!
Thy griefs and cares forget.
Why dread earth's transient woe, When soon thy body in the grave unseen Shall be laid low, And all will be forgotten then, as though It had not been?
Wherefore, my soul, be still!
Adore G.o.d's holy will, Fear death's supreme decree.
Thus mayst thou save thyself, and win high aid To profit thee, When thou, returning to thy Lord, shalt see Thy deeds repaid.
Why muse, O troubled soul, O'er life's poor earthly goal?
When thou hast fled, the clay Lies mute, nor bear'st thou aught of wealth, or might With thee that day, But, like a bird, unto thy nest away, Thou wilt take flight.
Why for a land lament In which a lifetime spent Is as a hurried breath?
Where splendor turns to gloom, and honors show A faded wreath, Where health and healing soon must sink beneath The fatal bow?
What seemeth good and fair Is often falsehood there.
Gold melts like s.h.i.+fting sands, Thy h.o.a.rded riches pa.s.s to other men And strangers' hands, And what will all thy treasured wealth and lands Avail thee then?
Life is a vine, whose crown The reaper Death cuts down.
His ever-watchful eyes Mark every step until night's shadows fall, And swiftly flies The pa.s.sing day, and ah! how distant lies The goal of all.
Therefore, rebellious soul, Thy base desires control; With scantly given bread Content thyself, nor let thy memory stray To splendors fled, But call to mind affliction's weight, and dread The judgment-day.
Prostrate and humbled go, Like to the dove laid low, Remember evermore The peace of heaven, the Lord's eternal rest.
When burdened sore With sorrow's load, at every step implore His succor blest.
Before G.o.d's mercy-seat His pardoning love entreat.
Make pure thy thoughts from sin, And bring a contrite heart as sacrifice His grace to win- Then will His angels come and lead thee in To Paradise.
SOLOMON IBN GEBIROL.
Sanctification
The sixfold winged angels cry To Him, Who hates iniquity: Holy art Thou, O Lord!
Holy art Thou!
The mighty ones of earth do call To Him, Who has created all: Blessed art Thou, O Lord!
Blessed art Thou!
They, who in radiance s.h.i.+ne, proclaim Of Him, Who wrought them out of flame: Holy art Thou, O Lord!
Holy art Thou!
Those doubly tried by flood and fire United chant in frequent choir: Blessed art Thou, O Lord!
Holy and blest!
Pure spheres celestial echoing round, With voice of sweetest song resound: Holy art Thou, O Lord!
Holy art Thou!
All those redeemed not by gold, Repeat in faith and joy untold: Blessed art Thou, O Lord!
Blessed art Thou!
They who pa.s.s swiftly to and fro Make answer, as they come and go: Holy art Thou, O Lord!
Holy art Thou!
Who seek His law, and testify That there is none beside Him, cry: Blessed art Thou, O Lord!
Holy and blest!
The hosts of radiant seraphs call To Him, most glorious of them all: Holy art Thou, O Lord!
Holy art Thou!
The sons of mighty men declare His majesty beyond compare: Blessed art Thou, O Lord!
Blessed art Thou!
All they who glorify His name, With every morn anew proclaim: Holy art Thou, O Lord!
