White as the dead herself , she held the cup
To Raschi's mouth. A quicky small flame sprang up
From the enchanted balsam, died away,
And lo ! the color dawned in cheek and lips,
The life retomed, the sealed, blind lids were raised.
And in the glorious eyes love reawoke.
And, looking up, met love.
So runs the tale.
Mocked by the worldly-wise ; but I believe,
Knowing the miracles the Lord hath wrought
In every age for Jacob's seed. Moreover,
I, with the highest and meanest Jew in Prague,
Was at the burial. No man saw the dead.
Sealed was the coffin ere the rites began.
And none could swear it went not empty down
Into the hollow earth. Too shrewd our priest
To publish such a wonder, and expose
That consecrated life to second death.
Scarce were the thirty days of mourning sped,
When we awoke to find his home left bare,
Bebekah and her father fled from Prague.
God grant they had glad meeting otherwhere !