Joseph Friedlander, comp. The Standard Book of Jewish Verse. 1917.
By LabelPurim
Q
Fasted and prayed for many a day;
For Haman would her people slay,
On Purim.
Nor how she did the riots quell;
Suffice to know she felt quite well,
On Purim.
Of wealth acquired by fraud and theft;
In fact, he was quite badly left
On Purim.
And chestnut-cries may blast my rhyme,
Bad verse, howe’er, is not a crime,
On Purim.
And many sights we seldom view,
Are done and seen—enjoyed, too,
On Purim.
And th’ old-time rabbi without guile,
May greet each other with a smile,
On Purim.
Who lectures when and how to stop,
May take, himself, an extra drop,
On Purim.
And of our Faith says: “’Tis not mine,”
Is, strange enough, well up in line
On Purim.
Who “squeech” each other every day,
Put hate and rancor far away,
On Purim.
The mourners smile and cease to grieve,
And all our misdeeds we retrieve (?)
On Purim.
For Jews in practice, Jews in name,
All seem to get there, just the same,
On Purim.