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, the infinitely great. But man can perceive that the power of God makes him great to pardon. If he see it not now, he will hereafter. Thou art light: pure souls shall thee behold, Save when mists of evil intervene. Thou art light, that, in this world concealed, In the world to come shall be revealed; In the mount of God it shall be seen. And so the poet in one of the final hymns of the "Royal Crown," filled with a sense of his own unworthiness, hopefully abandons himself to God: My God, I know that those who plead To thee for grace and mercy need All their good works should go before, And wait for them at heaven's high door. But no good deeds have I to bring, No righteousness for offering. No service for my Lord and King. Yet hide not thou thy face from me, Nor cast me out afar from thee; But when thou bidd'st my life to cease, O may'st thou lead me forth in peace Unto the world to come, to dwell Among thy pious ones, who tell Thy glories inexhaustible. There let my portion be with those Who to eternal life arose; There purify my heart aright, In thy light to behold the light. Raise me from deepest depths to share Heaven's endless joys of praise and prayer, That I may evermore declare: Though thou wast angered, Lord, I will give thanks to thee, For past is now thy wrath, and thou dost comfort me. Ibn Gebirol stood a little outside and a good deal above the circle of the Jewish poets who made this era so brilliant. Many of them are now forgotten; they had their day of popularity in Toledo, Cordova, Seville, and Granada, but their poems have not survived. In the very year of Ibn Gebirol's death Moses Ibn Ezra was born. Of his life little is certain, but it is known that he was still alive in 1138. He is called the "poet of penitence," and a gloomy turn was given to his thought by an unhappy love attachment in his youth. A few stanzas of one of his poems run thus: Sleepless, upon my bed the hours I number, And, rising, seek the house of God, while slumber Lies heavy on men's eyes, and dreams encumber Their souls in visions of the night. In sin and folly passed my early years, Wherefore I am ashamed, and life's arrears Now strive to pay, the while my tears Have been my food by day and night. * * * * *
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