Life's Sharpest Rapture Is Surcease Of Pain.

The Jewish Problem Is As Old As History, And Assumes In Each Age A New Form. The Life Or Death Of Millions Of Human Beings Hangs Upon Its Solution; Its Agitation Revives The Fiercest Passions For Good And For Evil That Inflame The Human Breast.

When Angels Visit Earth, The Messengers Of God's Decree, They Come As Lightning, Wind: Before The Throne, They All Are Living Fire.

Thick February Mists Cling Heavily To The Dead Earth And To Each Leafless Tree, And Closer Down Upon The Hilltops Draw, Dull Forecasts There Of Bright, Sure-coming Spring; Yet The Heart Gathers Hope And Strange Delight From This Dear, Unlovely, Wished-for Sight Of Leaden-misted Twilights Lengthening.

There Is No Comfort Looking Forth Nor Back, The Present Gives The Lie To All Her Past.

Naught Is Too Small And Soft To Turn And Sting.