Читать книгу Poems - Fanny Kemble - Страница 10

Where is thy home in thy promised land?

   Desolate and forsaken!

The stranger’s arm hath seized thy brand,

Thou art bowed beneath the stranger’s hand,

   And the stranger thy birthright hath taken.

Where is the mark of thy chosen race?

   Infamous and degraded!

It hath fallen on thee, on thy dwelling-place,

And that heaven-stamped sign to a foul disgrace

   And the scoff of the world, has faded.

First-born of nations! upon thy brow,

   Resistless and revenging,

The fiery finger of God hath now

Written the sentence of thy wo,

   The innocent blood avenging!

Lion of Judah! thy glory is past,

   Vanished and fled for ever.

Homeless and scattered, thy race is cast

Like chaff in the breath of the sweeping blast,

   To rally or rise again, never!