In Tisri's holier season,
From City of the Palms To where onycha incense soared
Amid Hosanna psalms, Waved green from every housetop,
Gay plumes of laurel tree; Whilst silver trumpets pealed afar
The tones of victory. Since through atoning sacrifice
Had dawned the spirit's peace; And through earth's toil a rich reward
Was reaped, in earth's increase.

Though ruin marks where Tadmor reigned,
And Israel roameth far; No shoals may stem the mercy-tide;
No power Heaven's largess bar. Then through the great Atonement's dawn,
Be lit our sin-dimmed eyes; Till grateful accents pierce the mist,
Into rejoicing skies. Till garnered fruit, and aftermath;
Till Autumn's tender shine With farewell tones of woodland song,
Reflect the Love Divine.