We are gay to-day; and yet, ere yon proud sun,
whose mighty course was stayed before our swords that now he even does
not deign to shine upon; ere yon proud sun shall, like a hero from a
glorious field, enter the bright pavilion of his rest, there shall a
deed be done.
'My fathers, my heroic fathers, if this feeble arm cannot redeem your
heritage; if the foul boar must still wallow in thy sweet vineyard,
Israel, at least I will not disgrace you. No! let me perish. The house
of David is no more; no more our sacred seed shall lurk and linger, like
a blighted thing, in this degenerate earth. If we cannot flourish, 'why,
then, we will die!'
'Oh! say not so, my brother!'
He turns, he gazes on a face beauteous as a starry night; his heart is
full, his voice is low.
'Ah, Miriam! thou queller of dark spirits! is it thou? Why art thou
here?'
'Why am I here? Are you not here? and need I urge a stronger plea? Oh!
brother dear, I pray you come, and mingle in our festival. Our walls are
hung with flowers you love;[2] I culled them by the fountain's side; the
holy lamps are trimmed and set, and you must raise their earliest flame.
Without the gate, my maidens wait, to offer you a robe of state.
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