For tears my burden seem to lighten best, Could I but weep my hearts blood, I might rest. My spirit bows with mighty grief oppressed, I utter forth my prayer within the night. Youth's charm has like a fleeting shadow gone, With eagle wings the hours of life have flown. Alas! the time when pleasure I have known. I may not now recall by day or night. The haughty scorn pursues me of my foe, Evil his thought, yet soft his speech and low. Forget it not, But bear his purpose so Forever in thy mind by day and night. Observe a pious fast, be whole again, Hasten to purge thy heart of every stain. No more from prayer and penitence refrain, But turn unto thy god by day and night. _He speaks_: "My son, yea, I will send thee aid, Bend thou thy steps to me, be not afraid. No nearer friend than I am, hast thou made, Possess thy soul in patience one more night." Read the following stanzas culled from Ha-Levi's "Elegy on Zion" and ask yourselves, where is the sacred epic that will compare with it? ON THE VOYAGE TO JERUSALEM. I. My two-score years and ten are over, Never again shall youth be mine. The years are ready-winged for flying, What crav'st thou still of feast and wine? Wilt thou still court man's acclamation, Forgetting what the Lord hath said? And forfeiting thy weal eternal, By thine own guilty heart misled? Shalt thou have never done with folly, Still fresh and new must it arise? Oh heed it not, heed not the senses, But follow God, be meek and wise: Yea, profit by thy days remaining, They hurry swiftly to the goal. Be zealous in the Lord's high service, And banish falsehood from thy soul. Use all thy strength, use all thy fervor, Defy thine own desires, awaken! Be not afraid when seas are foaming, And earth to her foundations shaken. Benumbed the hand then of the sailor, The captain's skill and power are lamed. Gaily they sailed with colors flying, And now turn home again ashamed. The ocean is our only refuge, The sandbank is our only goal, The masts are swaying as with terror, And quivering does the vessel roll. The mad wind frolics with the billows, Now smooths them low, now lashes high. Now they are storming up like lions, And now like serpents sleek they lie: And wave on wave is ever pressing, They hiss, they whisper, soft of tone. Alack! was that the vessel splitting? Are sail and mast and rudder gone? Here, screams of fright, there, silent weeping. The bravest feels his courage fail, What stead our prudence or our wisdom? The soul itself can naught avail. And each one to his God is crying, Soar up, my soul, to Him aspire, Who wrought a miracle for Jordan, Extol Him, oh angelic choir!