I.

I.

The long-closed door, oh open it again, send me back once more my
fawn that had fled.
On the day of our reunion, thou shalt rest by my side, there wilt
thou shed over me the streams of thy delicious perfume.
Oh beautiful bride, what is the form of thy friend, that thou say
to me, Release him, send him away?
He is the beautiful-eyed one of ruddy glorious aspect--that is my
friend, him do thou detain.

II.

Hail to thee, Son of my friend, the ruddy, the bright-colored one!
Hail to thee whose temples are like a pomegranate.
Hasten to the refuge of thy sister, and protect the son of Isaiah
against the troops of the Ammonites.
What art thou, O Beauty, that thou shouldst inspire love? that thy
voice should ring like the voices of the bells upon the priestly
garments?
The hour wherein thou desireth my love, I shall hasten to meet thee.
Softly will I drop beside thee like the dew upon Hermon.

NACHUM.

SPRING SONGS.

I.

Now the dreary winter's over,
Fled with him are grief and pain,
When the trees their bloom recover,
Then the soul is born again.
Spikenard blossoms shaking,
Perfume all the air,
And in bud and flower breaking,
Stands my garden fair.
While with swelling gladness blest,
Heaves my friend's rejoicing breast.
Oh, come home, lost friend of mine,
Scared from out my tent and land.
Drink from me the spicy wine,
Milk and must from out my hand.

Cares which hovered round my brow,
Vanish, while the garden now
Girds itself with myrtle hedges,
Bright-hued edges
Round it lie.
Suddenly
All my sorrows die.
See the breathing myrrh-trees blow,
Aromatic airs enfold me.
While the splendor and the glow
Of the walnut-branches hold me.

And a balsam-breath is flowing,
Through the leafy shadows green,
On the left the cassia's growing,
On the right the aloe's seen.
Lo, the clear cup crystalline,
In itself a gem of art,
Ruby-red foams up with wine,
Sparkling rich with froth and bubble.
I forget the want and trouble,
Buried deep within my heart.