| |
| WAKE, Israel, wake! Recall today | |
| The glorious Maccabean rage, | |
| The sire heroic, hoary-gray, | |
| His five-fold lion-lineage: | |
| The Wise, the Elect, the Help-of-God, | 5 |
| The Burst-of-Spring, the Avenging Rod. | |
| |
| From Mizpehs mountain-side they saw | |
| Jerusalems empty streets, her shrine | |
| Laid waste where Greeks profaned the Law, | |
| With idol and with pagan sign. | 10 |
| Mourners in tattered black were there, | |
| With ashes sprinkled on their hair. | |
| |
| Then from the stony peak there rang | |
| A blast to ope the graves: down poured | |
| The Maccabean clan, who sang | 15 |
| Their battle-anthem to the Lord. | |
| Five heroes lead, and following, see, | |
| Ten thousand rush to victory! | |
| |
| Oh, for Jerusalems trumpet now, | |
| To blow a blast of shattering power, | 20 |
| To wake the sleepers high and low, | |
| And rouse them to the urgent hour! | |
| No band for vengeancebut to save, | |
| A million naked swords should wave. | |
| |
| Oh, deem not dead that martial fire, | 25 |
| Say not the mystic flame is spent! | |
| With Moses law and Davids lyre, | |
| Your ancient strength remains unbent. | |
| Let but an Ezra rise anew, | |
| To lift the Banner of the Jew! | 30 |
| |
| A rag, a mock at firstere long, | |
| When men have bled and women wept, | |
| To guard its precious folds from wrong, | |
| Even they who shrunk, even they who slept, | |
| Shall leap to bless it and to save. | 35 |
| Strike! for the brave revere the brave! | |
| |