  In Arabia’s books of stories Read we of enchanted princes, Who from time to time recover’d Their once handsome pristine features; Or the whilome hairy monster To a king’s son is converted, Dress’d in gay and glittering garments, And the flute divinely playing. Yet the magic time expires, And once more and of a sudden We behold his royal highness Changed into a shaggy monster. Of a prince of such-like fortune Sings my song. His name is Israel, And a witch’s art has changed him To the figure of a dog. As a dog, with doggish notions, All the week his time he muddles Through life’s filthiness and sweepings, To the scavengers’ derision. But upon each Friday evening, Just at twilight, the enchantment Ceases suddenly,—the dog Once more is a human being. As a man, with human feelings, With his head and breast raised proudly Dress’d in festival attire, His paternal halls he enters. “Hail, all hail, ye halls belovÈd “Of my gracious regal father! “Tents of Jacob, your all-holy “Entrance posts my mouth thus kisses!” Through the house mysteriously Goes a whispering and buzzing, And the unseen master of it Shudd’ring breathes amid the silence,— Silence, save the seneschal (Vulgo Synagogue-Attendant) Here and there with vigour springing, As the lamps he seeks to kindle. Golden lights so comfort-giving, How they glitter, how they glimmer! Proudly also flare the tapers On the rails of the Almemor. At the shrine wherein the Thora Is preserved, and which is cover’d With the costly silken cov’ring That with precious jewels sparkles,— There beside his post, already Stands prepared the parish minstrel, Dandy little man, who shoulders His black cloak coquettishly. His white hand to show the better, At his neck he works, his finger Pressing strangely to his temple, And his thumb against his throat. To himself then softly trills he, Till at length his voice he raises Joyfully, and loudly sings he “Lecho Daudi Likras Kalle! “Lecho Daudi Likras Kalle— “Loved one, come! the bride already “Waiteth for thee, to uncover “To thy face her blushing features!” This most charming marriage ditty Was composed by the illustrious Far and wide known Minnesinger Don Jehuda ben Halevy. In the song was celebrated The espousals of Prince Israel With the lovely Princess Sabbath, Whom they call the silent princess. Pearl and flower of perfect beauty Is the Princess. Fairer never Was the famous queen of Sheba, Solomon’s old bosom-friend, Ethiopian vain blue-stocking, Who with her esprit would dazzle, And with all her clever riddles Was, I fear, extremely tedious. But our Princess Sabbath, who was Peace itself personified, Held in utter detestation All debates and wit-encounters. Equally abhorr’d she noisy And declamatory passion,— All that pathos which with flowing And dishevell’d hair storms wildly. Modestly the silent princess In her hood conceals her tresses; Soft as the gazelle’s her looks are, Slender as an Addas blooms she. She allows her lover all things Save this one,—tobacco-smoking: “Loved one! smoking is forbidden, “For to-day the Sabbath is. “But at noon, in compensation, “Thou a steaming dish shalt taste of, “Which is perfectly delicious— “Thou shall eat to-day some Schalet!” “Schalet, beauteous spark immortal, “Daughter of Elysium!” Thus would Schiller’s song have sung it, Had he ever tasted Schalet. Schalet is the food of heaven, Which the Lord Himself taught Moses How to cook, when on that visit To the summit of Mount Sinai, Where the Lord Almighty also Every good religious doctrine And the holy ten commandments Publish’d in a storm of lightning. Schalet is the pure ambrosia That the food of heaven composes— Is the bread of Paradise; And compared with food so glorious, The ambrosia of the spurious Heathen gods whom Greece once worshipp’d And were naught but muffled devils, Was but wretched devil’s dung. When the prince this food hath tasted, Gleams his eye as if transfigured, And his waistcoat he unbuttons, |
|
