בס"ד
Vol. I, No. 6 |
Song of the Spanish Jews |
During their "Golden Age." by Grace Aguilar. "It was in Spain that the golden age of the Jews shone with the brightest and most enduring splendour. "In emulation of their Moslemite brethren, they began to cultivate their long disused and neglected poetry; the harp of Judah was heard to sound again, though with something of a foreign tone."—Milman's History of the Jews. Oh,
dark is the spirit that loves not the land Who
hails not the flowers that bloom on his way, Who
treads not with awe where his ancestors lie, Oh,
cold is such spirit: and yet colder still On
the face of the earth our doom was to roam, Home
of the exiles! oh ne'er will we leave thee, Oh,
dearest and brightest! the homeless do bless thee, |