| Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917. | | | | To Simon Wolf on His Eightieth Birthday | | By George Alexander Kohut |
| | | YOU need no meed of praise in song or prose, | |
| No thing of bronze or marble to record | |
| How well you served the people and the Lord | |
| Long ere your head was hallowed by the snows | |
| Of four-score years. No respite nor repose | 5 |
| Your right hand knew which flashed the spirit sword | |
| Of battle for the Maccabean host | |
| Against the foe that dared with vandal steel | |
| Profane the shrine. Your Mattathias zeal | |
| Still sways us by its intimate appeal. | 10 |
| Yours is no wanton pride, no frenzied boast, | |
| But just the picket’s password at his post. | |
| Yours is the right to challenge and repel | |
| The enemies that trouble Israel. | | | | |
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