ever prize.
In dreams thy shadowy image I shall see,
Oh even in my dream be kind to me!"[49]

Yehuda Halevi sang not only of love, but also, in true Oriental fashion,
and under the influence of his Arabic models, of wine and friendship. On
the other hand, he is entirely original in his epithalamiums, charming
descriptions of the felicity of young conjugal life and the sweet
blessings of pure love. They are pervaded by the intensity of joy, and
full of roguish allusions to the young wife's shamefacedness, arousing
the jest and merriment of her guests, and her delicate shrinking in the
presence of longed-for happiness. Characteristically enough his
admonitions to feed the fire of love are always followed by a sigh for
his people's woes:

"You twain will soon be one,
And all your longing filled.
Ah me! will Israel's hope
For freedom e'er be stilled?"

It is altogether probable that these blithesome songs belong to the
poet's early life. To a friend who remonstrates with him for his love of
wine he replies:

"My years scarce number twenty-one--
Wouldst have me now the wine-cup shun?"

which would seem to indicate that love and wine were the pursuits of his
youth. One of his prettiest drinking songs is the following:

"My bowl yields exultation--
I soar aloft on song-tipped wing,
Each draught is inspiration,
My lips sip wine, my mouth must sing.

Dear friends are full of horror,
Predict a toper's end for me.
They ask: 'How long, O sorrow,
Wilt thou remain wine's devotee?'

Why should I not sing praise of drinking?
The joys of Eden it makes mine.
If age will bring no cowardly shrinking,
Full many a year will I drink wine."

But little is known of the events of the poet's career. History's
niggardliness, however, has been compensated for by the prodigality of
legend, which has woven many a fanciful tale about his life. Of one fact
we are certain: when he had passed his fiftieth year, Yehuda Halevi left
his native town, his home, his family, his friends, and disciples, to
make a pilgrimage to Palestine, the land wherein his heart had always
dwelt. His itinerary can be traced in his songs. They lead us to Egypt,
to Zoan, to Damascus. In Tyre silence suddenly falls upon the singer.
Did he attain the goal he had set out to reach? Did his eye behold the
land of his fathers? Or did death overtake the pilgrim singer bef