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The Choice.

I saw in dream the spirits unbegot,

Veiled, floating phantoms, lost in twilight space;

For one the hour had struck, he paused; the place

Rang with an awful Voice:

"Soul, choose thy lot!

Two paths are offered; that, in velvet-flower,

Slopes easily to every earthly prize.

Follow the multitude and bind thine eyes,

Thou and thy sons' sons shall have peace with power.

This narrow track skirts the abysmal verge,

Here shalt thou stumble, totter, weep and bleed,

All men shall hate and hound thee and thy seed,

Thy portion be the wound, the stripe, the scourge.

But in thy hand I place my lamp for light,

Thy blood shall be the witness of my Law,

Choose now for all the ages!"

Then I saw

The unveiled spirit, grown divinely bright,

Choose the grim path. He turned, I knew full well

The pale, great martyr-forehead shadowy-curled,

The glowing eyes that had renounced the world,

Disgraced, despised, immortal Israel.