Verse > Anthologies > Joseph Friedlander, comp. > The Standard Book of Jewish Verse
Joseph Friedlander, comp.  The Standard Book of Jewish Verse.  1917.
By Joaquin Miller
MY dark-browed daughter of the Sun,
  Dear Bedouin of the desert sands,
  Sad daughter of the ravished lands,
Of savage Sinai, Babylon—
O, Egypt-eyed, thou art to me        5
A God-encompassed mystery.
I see sad Hagar in thy eyes,
  The obelisks, the pyramids,
  Lie hid beneath thy drooping lids,
The tawny Nile of Moses lies        10
Portrayed in thy strange people’s force,
And solemn mystery of source.
The black abundance of thy hair
  Falls like some sad twilight of June
  Above the dying afternoon,        15
And mourns thy people’s mute despair.
The large solemnity of night,
O Israel, is in thy sight.
Then come where stars of freedom spill
  Their splendor, Jewess. In this land,        20
  The same broad hollow of God’s hand
That held you ever, outholds still.
And whether you be right or nay,
’Tis God’s, not Russia’s, here to say.

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