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| I’M but a child, and childish toys | |
| Make up the sum of all my joys— | |
| But hark! while I am playing here | |
| A strange sound falls upon my ear, | |
| A note of music weird and wild, | 5 |
| And lo, I am a changeling child— | |
| Where I stand with my childish feet, | |
| The centuries around me meet; | |
| Though fresh the laughter in mine eyes, | |
| And on my lips, yet full of sighs | 10 |
| The air about me, and I seem | |
| To live and move as in a dream. | |
| With that strange music rise and swell | |
| Old memories of what befel | |
| The children of my ancient race. | 15 |
| The Shofar brings me face to face | |
| With all the martyrdoms of old | |
| That are in song and story told; | |
| And as its tones ring shrill and loud, | |
| They make me feel both sad and proud | 20 |
| That I am heir to all this woe, | |
| That all this glory I should know. | |
| And though I see strange children play | |
| With all the baubles of the day, | |
| I know I have more precious things; | 25 |
| My gifts are from the King of kings, | |
| Whose angels He before me sent, | |
| And to them of His glory lent. | |
| The Shofar, hark! it tells my soul | |
| That as the ages onward roll, | 30 |
| I more and more shall feel and hear | |
| The Spirit’s speech around and near. | |
| My feet shall forward, upward press, | |
| Until a perfect wilderness | |
| Of flowers springs where’er I tread, | 35 |
| And blessings rain down on my head. | |
. . . . . So may the Shofar peal on peal, | |
| The heart unto itself reveal; | |
| ’Till thou again, O Israel, | |
| In “Jacob’s goodly tents” shall dwell. | 40 |
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