Thus to the flaming Cherubin he said: These treasured books, dear as my own heart's blood,

I burn! I burn! I burn that I may know

The greater secret that before me lies, The garden of the Lord saved from the flood,

The golden Paradise.

The flaming fire rose up and filled the skies:

A burning sacrifice

Of all Elisha Ben Abuyah loved.
It is enough, the Cherubin replies,
Thou art forgiven, is the gracious

word.

And, every barrier to thy wish removed,

Enter the garden of the Lord.

Beyond the sword of fire,
Untouched by fire or sword,
He gains his soul's desire,
The garden of the Lord.

That he may grow more wise
He enters Paradise.
Boldly he looks around,
And treads the holy ground
As one who would declare,

I am the son and heir

Of him to whom these treasures all belong.

Rivers of life combine,

With the fruit of the Tree divine,
To nourish with marvels my tongue.
Of all that is here, as mine,

I will sing! I will write! I will tell!
From the gates of heaven to hell:
In parable, legend and song.

Filled with the curse of pride
Elisha Ben Abuyah makes his way,
Crushing with reckless stride
Whate'er before him lay.

Crushing the tender plants so young and sweet,

The plants of Paradise, beneath his feet.

What voice is that he hears,
That breaketh him with fears?
What pang is that he feels?

It is the voice of God,

The angel's flashing rod.

Oh thou who kills the plants of Paradise

See what the son of Levi here hath done!

The kingdom of Heaven he takes by violence,

And in thy name refuses to go hence!" The Lord replied, "My Angels be not wroth;

Did e'er the son of Levi break his oath?

Let him remain; for he with mortal eye

Shall look upon my face and yet not die."

Beyond the outer wall the Angel of Death

Heard the great voice, and said, with panting breath,

"Give back the sword, and let me go

THE LOAN.

(Midrash Yalkut, iii. p. 165.)

THE Rabbi Meir,

A black cap on his white hair,

And him before

Unfurled the great book of the Law,
Sat in the school and taught.
Many a winged thought

Flew from his lips, and brought
Fire and enlightenment
Unto the scholars bent
Diligently at their writing.

And all the while he was inditing,
His soul was near to God

Above the dull earth that he trod.
And as the lark doth sing
High up and quivering

In the blue, on heavenward wing,
But ever its breast

Keepeth above its nest,

And singing it doth not roam
Beyond hearing of its home,

So the Rabbi, however high he soared
In his teaching, or praying, sung
Close to the ear of his Lord,

Yet ever above his home, his wife and young.

And answer, 'They are well,'

Sit you and eat your supper, whilst I tell

What to me befell;

And assure me in what way

You think it had been best

That I had acted.' Thus addressed,
He sat him at his meal,

And began to eat: 'Reveal

Thy case,' he said. 'Yet tell me, I pray,
First-where are my boys to-day?"
Then suddenly she said,
With an averted head:
'Many years are flown
Since one a precious loan
Entrusted to my care, until he came
That treasure to reclaim.'
The Rabbi spoke: 'Of old
Tobit confided his gold

Then, with a glance of blame,

He answered, as he shook his head: 'For shame,

Wife of my bosom! It were not thine
Should forty years upon thee shine,
And the owner not return
To demand it. Beruriah, learn
Not to covet.'

Then he paused, and said, Moving the lamp: 'Thine eyes are red, Beruriah: wherefore?'

But she broke

In on his question, and thus spoke: 'To-day there came

To the door the same

One who had lent the treasure,
And he said, "It is my pleasure
To have the loan restored."

What do you think, my lord?
Should I have withheld it, Mei-?
At his wife with astonished stare
Looked the Rabbi. 'O my wife!
Light of my eyes, and glory of my life!
Why ask this question?"