Thomas R. Lounsbury, ed. (1838–1915). Yale Book of American Verse. 1912.
Henry Cuyler Bunner 1855–1896
Henry Cuyler Bunner239 Chakey Einstein
P
Held you in his cruel hand,
Till the Appointed of the Lord
Led you forth and drowned his horde.
Cushan, Eglon’s Moabites,
Jabin, then the Midianites,
Ammonite and Philistine
Held you, by decree divine.
Shishak spoiled you—but the list
Fades in dim tradition’s mist—
And on history’s page we see
One long tale of misery,
Century after century through—
Chains and lashes for the Jew.
Haman and Antiochus,
Herod, Roman Socius,
Spoiled you, crushed you, various ways,
Till the dawn of Christian days;
Since which time your wrongs and shame
Have remained about the same.
Whipped and chained, your teeth pulled out;
English cat and Russian knout
Made familiar with your back—
When you were n’t upon the rack—
Marked for scorn of Christian men;
Pilfered, taxed, and taxed again;
Pilloried, prisoned, burnt and stoned,
Stripped of even the clothes you owned;
Child of Torture, Son of Shame,
Robbed of even a father’s name—
In this year of Christian grace,
What ’s your state and what ’s your place?
Why, you ’re rich and strong and gay—
Chakey Einstein, owff Broadway!
Israelitish names repeat. Lichtenstein and Morgenroth Sell the pants and sell the coat; Minzesheimer, Isaacs, Meyer, Levy, Lehman, Simon, Speyer— These may just suggest a few Specimens of Broadway Jew— And these gentlemen have made Quite their own the Dry-gootz Trade. Surely you ’re on top to-day, Chakey Einstein, owff Broadway! Fond of being in a crowd; Fond of diamonds and rings; Fond of haberdashers’ things; Fond of color, fond of noise; Fond of treating “owl der boys” (Yet, it ’s only fair to state, For yourself, most temperate); Fond of women, fond of song; Fond of bad cigars, and strong; Fond, too much, of Brighton’s Race (Where you ’re wholly out of place, For no Jew in Time’s long course Knew one thing about a horse); Fond of life, and fond of fun (Once your “beezness” wholly done); Open-handed, generous, free, Full of Christian charity (Far more full than he who pokes At your avarice his jokes); Fond of friends, and ever kind To the sick and lame and blind (And, though loud you else may be, Silent in your charity); Fond of Mrs. Einstein and Her too-numerous infant band, Ever willing they should share Your enjoyment everywhere— What of you is left to say, Chakey Einstein, owff Broadway? You have kin among the swells— Great musicians, poets true, Painters, singers not a few, Own their cousinship to you: And all England, so they say, Yearly blooms on Primrose Day All in memory of a Jew Of the self-same race as you; Greatest leader ever known Since the Queen came to her throne; Bismarck’s only equal foe, With a thrust for every blow, One who rose from place to place To lead the Anglo-Saxon race, One whose statecraft wise and keen Made an Empress of a Queen— You ’ve your share in Primrose Day, Chakey Einstein, owff Broadway! And behold the Conquering Jew: In despite of all the years Filled with agonies and fears; In despite of stake and chain; In despite of Rome and Spain; ’Spite of prison, rack, and lash, You are here and you ’ve the cash: You are Trade’s uncrownèd king— You are mostly everything— Only one small joke, O Jew! Has the Christian world on you— When your son, your first-born boy, Solomon, your fond heart’s joy, Grows to manhood’s years, he ’ll wed One a Christian born and bred; Blue of blood, of lineage old, Who will take him for his gold— That ’s not all—so far the joke Is upon the Christian folk. But, dear Chakey, when he goes In his proper Sabbath clo’es, To the House of Worship, he And his little family, He will pass the synagogue, And upon his way will jog To a Church, wherein his pew Will bear a name unknown to you— One quite unknown in old B’nai B’rith— Eynston maybe—maybe Smith. That ’s just as sure as day is day— Chakey Einstein, owff Broadway!