To Judah Ha-Levi

IMPASSIONED hours, when Hebrew was the key

To sweetest rivalries ’twixt man and man.

And poets sat enthroned amidst a clan

Of choristers divine. How blithesomely

Those skylarks trilled, and flooded earth and sea

With music, till the words enchanted fell

In mute prostration ’neath the wizard’s spell,

And master note in Hebrew minstrelsy.

At sunrise, or in watches of the night,

When half a world is sunk in drowsiness,

Sing to me of Castilian skies, O Sprite!

Where Lilith veils her luresome loveliness,

And I will stretch a tankard for the wine,

And froth it full of tears for Spain’s decline.