Emma Lazarus Poems
|2.||The New Year||4/26/2016|
|4.||To Carmen Sylva||4/16/2010|
|5.||The Valley Of Baca||4/16/2010|
|6.||The Death Of Raschi||4/16/2010|
|9.||Song From Heine||4/16/2010|
|13.||In A Swedish Graveyard||4/16/2010|
|16.||The Day Of Dead Soldiers||4/16/2010|
|20.||The Garden Of Adonis||4/16/2010|
|21.||The Banner Of The Jew||4/16/2010|
|23.||The World’s Justice||4/16/2010|
|27.||On A Tuft Of Grass||4/16/2010|
|30.||Off Rough Point||4/16/2010|
|32.||On The Proposal To Erect A Monument In England To Lord Byron||4/16/2010|
Comments about Emma Lazarus
Late-born and woman-souled I dare not hope,
The freshness of the elder lays, the might
Of manly, modern passion shall alight
Upon my Muse's lips, nor may I cope
(Who veiled and screened by womanhood must grope)
With the world's strong-armed warriors and recite
The dangers, wounds, and triumphs of the fight;
Twanging the full-stringed lyre through all its scope.
But if thou ever in some lake-floored cave
O'erbrowed by rocks, a wild voice wooed and heard,
Answering at once from heaven and earth and wave,
Lending elf-music to thy harshest word, ...
The Cranes Of Ibicus
Here was a man who watched the river flow
Past the huge town, one gray November day.
Round him in narrow high-piled streets at play
The boys made merry as they saw him go,
Murmuring half-loud, with eyes upon the stream,
The immortal screed he held within his hand.
For he was walking in an April land
With Faust and Helen. Shadowy as a dream
Was the prose-world, the river and the town.