THE JEWISH CHILD.*
DEEP, deep in the earth's bosom buried, Denied the glad rays of the sun, See'st there the worm unwearied— Creeping onward—ever on? Of green fields and flowers ablowing, Where humanity's free-born child, Plays in the sunlight aglowing, Free as the breeze, fresh and mild. Born in the depth, and, forever, Grim nature decreed that he, Shall creep on—to soar, not endeavor, Nor light of day shall see. Ah ! A burst of deep anguish loud-ringing Echoes the strain of her lay ; How mournful the song she is singing— Singing by night and by day. Like the worm in darkness appalling, Frail, and dumb—ah, and blind— Liv'st through thy childhood enthralling, O child of Judah's kind. Heart-rending moans and sore-weeping, Ring in her song alway ; And the child in his cradle is sleeping— Sleeping by night and by day. O'er thy cradle, thy mother, low bending, Sings not a song of glee— Of life in the paths of peace tending, Of freedom and liberty. Heart-rending moans and sore-wailing— Lo, hunger and cold and dearth— Thy footsteps, oh child, ever trailing— Trailing thy path o'er the earth. From the cradle to the grave's peaceful resting— Wher'er thy life's mazes extend,— Thick woods of sorrow are growing— Growing, Yea, without end.
From the cradle to the grave's peaceful resting— Wher'er thy life's mazes extend,— Thick woods of sorrow are growing— Growing, Yea, without end.
* After the Judeo-German of Frug.