| Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917. | | | | The Magic Words | | By Melvin G. Winstock |
| | | THE SCENE of conflict was a level plain | |
| That lay among the stretching hills of Spain, | |
| And on the sand that glistened in the sun, | |
| Ten thousand lay, whose hours of life had run. | |
| |
| ’Till noonday’s heat, from earliest sign of dawn, | 5 |
| The battling forces were in combat drawn, | |
| And ere the sun sank in the silent West, | |
| A host of men had found eternal rest. | |
| |
| Behind the battle-field, beneath a tent, | |
| A soldier lay, on death his vision bent, | 10 |
| A kindly Priest, that spoke of God, was near, | |
| A Doctor, he was there, but full of fear. | |
| |
| Each was a Jew, had each a Hebrew’s zeal, | |
| But neither dared his name or race reveal. | |
| But death had robbed them of their mortal fears, | 15 |
| Here in his shadow they could spend their tears. | |
| |
| “Shemang Yisrael,” the dying soldier breathed, | |
| His face, in death, with smiles all wreathed. | |
| “Adonai Elohenoo,” said piously the man of God; | |
| The Doctor murmured, “Adonai Echod.” | 20 |
| |
| The Priest reached out, and grasped the Doctor’s hand, | |
| These magic words had forged a mighty band, | |
| And then upon the Doctor’s bosom lay his head, | |
| And wept. The soldier now, alas! was dead. | | | | |
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