The Jew to Jesus: And Other Poems

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M. Kennerley, 1915 - American poetry - 90 pages
 

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Page 3 - Among these alien ones can know thy face, 1 who have felt the kinship of thy race Burn in me as I sit where they intone Thy praises, — those who, striving to make known A God for sacrifice, have missed the grace Of thy sweet human meaning in its place, Thou who art of our blood-bond and our own. Are we not sharers of thy Passion? Yea, In spirit-anguish closely by thy side We have drained the bitter cup, and, tortured, felt With thee the bruising of the heavy welt. In every land is our Gethsemane....
Page 5 - A white-faced, stubborn little thing Whose years are not quite twenty years, Eyes steely now and done with tears, Mouth scornful of its suffering! — The young mouth ! — body virginal Beneath the cheap, ill-fitting suit, A bearing quaintly resolute, A flowering hat, satirical. A soul that steps to the sound of the fife And banners waving red to war, Mystical, knowing scarce wherefore — A Joan in a modern strife.
Page 6 - The nations wax and cease! — Did the God of our fathers doom us to bear The flaming message of peace! We are the mock and the sport of time! Yet why should I complain! — For a Jew that they hung on the bloody cross, He also died in vain. THE MOVIES She knows a cheap release From worry and from pain — The cowboys spur their horses Over the unending plain. The tenement rooms are small; Their walls press on the brain. Oh, the dip of the galloping horses On the limitless, wind-swept plain! YOU...
Page 73 - OWN LIFE FALTERS HERE" BY FLORENCE KIPER BECAUSE my own life falters here, Because my own soul burdened is, I do not make demand of Fate For the eternal mysteries. Because I am flung twisted forth, Because in the making I was marred, I do not doubt the purpose deep Behind the heavens calmly starred. Life justifies in vivid ways The heart that sees her great and sane ; Strong joy of being have I snatched From out the fiery midst of pain. The Adventures of Miss...
Page 8 - THIS is the song of the women, sung to the marching feet, Mothers and daughters of mothers, out in the crowded street, Yea, and the mothers of mothers, white with the passing years — This is the chant of the women, and wise is he who hears.
Page 9 - The poor and the weak and the thwarted we have seen in living light. And we cry to you, follow the vision, follow with us abreast. Brothers, comrades, lovers, the quest is a holy quest. Out of the golden dawning, out of the bursting morn, They are calling to us, united — the voices of them unborn. This is the song of the women...
Page 88 - They have dressed me up in a soldier's dress, With a rifle in my hand, And have sent me bravely forth to shoot My own in a foreign land. Oh, many shall die for the fields of their homes, And many in conquest wild; But I shall die for the fatherland That murdered my little...
Page 55 - The restless glow and bright of thy desire — Pulsating, winged heart of joy and fire. I too aspire As thou, O goddess; I too feel the urge Of passions and of utterances high That break through to the infinite and cry Against the clouds their pulsing movements vast; My soul has wings like thine; And those full limbs that flaunt The fluttering drapery, And that deep bosom free, Are mine, are mine!
Page 56 - That sovereignty and strength that thrill through thee, Thou vivid, burning song of victory! Large freedom's high imagination thou, Sweeping the cleaved air with haughty stroke, As if thy great life broke Free from our prisoning cells that bruise and bow. The poet thou, The poet's soul all vivid things above, More vivid and more vital in its love Than love of woman who has waked to love.
Page 57 - ... weak? All powers and shades of song? — Ah, couldst thou speak! Speak to me, bend above me, touch my lips, Anoint me with thy presence, consecrate My soul unto thy state, And I shall burst into such power of words As men have waited for with eager hearts Since last the gods walked big among us.

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