Ode to Zion

Zion! wilt thou not ask if peace be with thy captives
That seek thy peace—that are the remnant of thy flocks?
From west and east, from north and south— the greeting
“Peace” from far and near, take thou from every side;
And greeting from the captive of desire,' giving his tears like dew
Of Hermon, and longing to let them fall upon thine hills.
To wail for thine affliction I am like the jackals; but when I dream
Of the return of thy captivity, I am a harp for thy songs.
My heart to Bethel and Peniel yearneth sore,
To Mahanaim and to all the places where thy pure ones have met.
There the Presence abideth in thee; yea, there thy Maker
Opened thy gates to face the gates of heaven.
And the Lord's glory alone was thy light;
No sun nor moon nor stars were luminants for thee.
I would choose for my soul to pour itself out within that place
Where the spirit of God was outpoured upon thy chosen.
Thou art the house of royalty; thou art the throne of the Lord, and how
Do slaves sit now upon thy princes' thrones?
Would I might be wandering in the places where
God was revealed unto thy seers and messengers.
O who will make me wings, that I may fly afar,
And lay the ruins of my cleft heart among thy broken cliffs!
I would fall, with my face upon thine earth and take delight
In thy stones and be tender to thy dust.
Yea, more, when standing by my fathers’ tombs
I would marvel, in Hebron, over the chosen of thy graves.
I would pass into thy forest and thy fruitful field, and stand
Within thy Gilead, and wonder at thy mount beyond—’
Mount Abarim, and Mount Hor, where are the twain
Great lights—thy Luminaries, thy Teachers.
The life of souls is the air of thy land, and of pure myrrh
The grains of thy dust, and honey from the comb thy rivers.
Sweet would it be unto my soul to walk naked and barefoot
Upon the desolate ruins where thy holiest dwellings were;
In the place of thine Ark where it is hidden and in the place
Of thy cherubim which abode in thine innermost recesses.
I will cut off and cast away the splendour of my crown of locks, and curse the fate
That desecrated in unclean land the heads that bore thy crown.
How shall it be sweet to me to cat and drink while I behold
Dogs tearing at thy lions’ whelps?
Or how can light of day be joyous to mine eyes while yet
I see in ravens’ beaks torn bodies of thine eagles?
O cup of sorrow! gently! hold a while! already
My loins are filled, yea, and my soul, with thy bitterness.
When I remember Oholah I drink thy fury,
And I recall Oholibah, and drain thy dregs.
Zion! perfect in beauty! love and grace thou didst bind on to thee
Of olden time; and still the souls of thy companions are bound up with thee.
It is they that rejoice at thy well-being, that are in pain
Over thy desolation, and that weep over thy ruin—
They that, from the pit of the captive, pant toward thee, worshipping,
Every one from his own place, toward thy gates;
The flocks of thy multitude, which were exiled and scattered
From mount to hill, but have not forgotten thy fold;
Which grasp thy skirts and strengthen themselves
To go up and take hold of the boughs of thy palms.
Shinar and Pathros'—were they equal unto thee in their greatness?
Can they compare their vanity to thy
Thummim and thy Urim?
And with whom could they compare thine anointed Kings? and with whom
Thy prophets? and with whom thy ministrants and thy singers?
He will change, He will wholly sweep away all the realms of idols;
Thy splendour is for ever, from age to age thy crown.
Thy God hath desired thee for a dwelling-place; and happy is the man
Whom He chooseth and bringeth near that he may rest within thy courts.
Happy is he that waiteth, that cometh nigh and seeth the rising
Of thy light, when on him thy dawn shall break—
That he may see the welfare of thy chosen, and rejoice
In thy rejoicing, when thou turnest back unto thine olden youth.