E'er vigilant to succor all distress,
The meagre funds soon every day grew less,
Until he found, whene'er the week expired,
That he'd expended more than he acquired.
And oftener than not he borrowed more
From out his own resources for the poor.
It chanced one day when want and famine spread
Throughout the land,—inspiring all with dread—
A woman came to Benjamin the Good,
Imploring him, in mercy's name, for food.
He lifted up a pale and anxious face
And said to her with melancholy grace:
"I swear, my daughter, by God's holy shrine,
Our funds are spent, or else they would be thine!"
"O, Rabbi," came the quavering reply,
"Then with my seven children I must die!" The Rabbi felt no human need was worse, And gave her all he carried in his purse.
In course of time he sickened, and he knew
His days on earth remaining were but few,
For Death was there, impatient by his side,
The one great power no human yet defied.
But lo! the Hosts and Archangels began
To intercede for this God-fearing man :
"Thou'st said, O Lord," in chorus they appealed,
"That he who but one single soul did shield
Is counted as though he had saved the world.
Shall Benjamin the Righteous now be hurled
So early to his doom? Who freely gave
His meagre hoard to rescue from the grave
Eight human souls?"-this spake the angels, and
Their shimmering wings the Council Chamber
spanned.
They waited breathless for the mandate-Word
Of Him who rules the earth. At last they heard
The high behest reverberate and soar:
That man shall live yet twenty-two years more!"
And hence the name of Benjamin is wrote
With that of other righteous men of note,
Eternally in old Rabbinic Script,
As though he were some great Apocalypt.
Ere time began, ere age to age had thrilled,
I waited in His storehouse, as He willed;
He gave me being, but my years fulfilled,
I shall be summoned back before the King.
He called the hidden to the light of day,
To right and left, each side the fountain lay,
From out the stream and down the steps, the way
That led me to the presence of the King.
Thou gavest me a light my path to guide,
To prove my heart's redresses still untried;
And as I went, Thy voice in warning cried:
"Child! fear thou Him who is thy God and
King!"
True weight and measure learned my heart from Thee;
If blessings follow, then what joy for me!
If naught but sin, all mine the shame must be,
For that was not determined by the King.
I hasten, trembling, to confess the whole
Of my transgressions, ere I reach the goal
Where mine own words must witness 'gainst my soul,
And who dares doubt the writing of the King?
Erring, I wandered in the wilderness,
In passion's grave nigh sinking powerless;
Now deeply I repent, in sore distress,
That I kept not the statutes of the King!
With worldly longings was my bosom fraught,
Earth's idle toys and follies all I sought;
Ah! when He judges joys so dearly bought,
How greatly shall I fear my Lord and King!
Now conscience-stricken, humbled to the dust,
Doubting myself, in Thee alone I trust;
I shrink in terror back, for God is just
How can a sinner hope to reach the King?
Oh! be Thy mercy in the balance laid,
To hold Thy servant's sins more lightly weighed,
When, my confession penitently made,
I answer for my guilt before the King.
Thine is the love, O God, and Thine the grace,
That folds the sinner in its mild embrace;
Thine the forgiveness bridging o'er the space
'Twixt man's works and the task set by the King.
Unheeding all my sins, I cling to Thee!
I know that mercy will Thy footstool be;
Before I call, oh! do Thou answer me,
For nothing dare I claim of Thee, my King!
O Thou who makest guilt to disappear,
My help, my hope, my rock, I will not fear;
Though Thou the body hold in dungeon drear,
The soul has found the palace of the King.
Translation from the Hebrew by Mrs. Henry Lucas
The sixfold wingèd 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 hath created all :
Blessed art Thou, O Lord!
Blessed art Thou!
They who in radiance shine, proclaim
Of Him who wrought them out of flame:
Holy art Thou, O Lord!
Holy art Thou!
Those doubly tried by blood 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 redeemèd not by gold,
Repeat in faith and joy untold:
Blessed art Thou, O Lord!
Blessed art Thou!
They who pass 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!
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