| Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917. | | | | Na-Ha-Moo | | By J. C. Levy |
| | | | “Comfort Ye—Comfort Ye, my people.”—Isaiah, xl. 1. |
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BY Babel’s streams, thy children wept, | |
| And mute, O Israel, was thy choir, | |
| While as thy weary exiles slept, | |
| And on the willow hung thy lyre, | |
| A seraph’s voice, soft as the dew, | 5 |
| Fell on their dreams with “Na-ha-moo.” | |
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| No song made glad that mournful voice, | |
| No ease was for that bruised breast, | |
| Till He who bade thee to rejoice | |
| Sent forth on Zion His behest— | 10 |
| Firm as thy faith in Him was true, | |
| Like manna fell the “Na-ha-moo.” | |
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| The stranger hath usurped the seat, | |
| Where, throned in glory, blazed the fane. | |
| The hallowed walls, thy sacred feet, | 15 |
| Still guard, O Zion, still remain, | |
| To mark the ruin and renew | |
| The memory of thy “Na-ha-moo.” | |
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| God’s mercy shines a lingering beam, | |
| The pilgrim on his path to light, | 20 |
| From Sinai’s brow, from Jordan’s stream, | |
| From offerings of the heart contrite— | |
| His promises our hopes imbue, | |
| With blessings of his “Na-ha-moo.” | | | |
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