Shofar Echoes

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,

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

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.

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

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;

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,

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,

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.