home, to our own land. To Palestine, if God so wills it, by way of San Francisco and Hong Kong.
Scattered over the four corners of the Earth we may always be, but to fulfil our mission, one nation we must call our own.
Not Reform, not Orthodox, not German, not Litvak, must be our name, but Jew, plain Jew; not the Jew of hate and scorn but the Jew of honor and self-respect.
ZION—A LULLABY
SILVERY stars in the heavens do Twinkling with splendor, all know of its blink, fame, Twilight falleth, the shadows do Beaming with grandeur, Zion its name; sink; Dreaming of freedom, oh close thy sweet Moonlight it beameth, the shadows do eye, fly— Rest, thou, my darling, oh rest, lullaby! Warrior of Zion, O rest, lullaby! Stars will be waning, the sun will soon Grow up a hero, with valor do fight; rise, Heed not the struggles, the darkness of One star remaining shall brighten thy night! eyes; Sparkling, its lustre shall never pass by— "Zion for ever!" this shall be thy cry— Sink into slumber, my child, lullaby! Rest thou, my hero, oh rest, lullaby!
Knowest thou thy banner? Its emblem a shield, Shield of the ages, it never shall yield. Nations have perished and times have rolled by, But Zion forever! . . . . O rest lullaby!