es,
And to the spirits, and all winds and gods.
Till mighty Brahma puts his golden palm
Within the gipsy king's great striped tent,
And asks his fortune told by that great love-line
That winds across his palm in splendid flame.

Only the hearthstone of old India
Will end the endless march of gipsy feet.
I will go back to India with them
When they go back to India whence they came.
I know all this, when gipsy fiddles cry.

JAMES OPPENHEIM

HEBREWS

I come of a mighty race.... I come of a very mighty race....
Adam was a mighty man, and Noah a captain of the moving waters,
Moses was a stern and splendid king, yea, so was Moses....
Give me more songs like David's to shake my throat to the pit of the
belly,
And let me roll in the Isaiah thunder....

Ho! the mightiest of our young men was born under a star in the
midwinter....
His name is written on the sun and it is frosted on the moon....
Earth breathes him like an eternal spring: he is a second sky over
the Earth.

Mighty race! mighty race!--my flesh, my flesh
Is a cup of song,
Is a well in Asia....
I go about with a dark heart where the Ages sit in a divine
thunder....
My blood is cymbal-clashed and the anklets of the dancers tinkle
there....
Harp and psaltery, harp and psaltery make drunk my spirit....
I am of the terrible people, I am of the strange Hebrews....
Amongst the swarms fixed like the rooted stars, my folk is a
streaming Comet,
Comet of the Asian tiger-darkness,
The Wanderer of Eternity, the eternal Wandering Jew....

Ho! we have turned against the mightiest of our young men
And in that denial we have taken on the Christ,
And the two thieves beside the Christ,
And the Magdalen at the feet of the Christ,
And the Judas with thirty silver pieces selling the Christ,--
And our twenty centuries in Europe have the shape of a Cross
On which we have hung in disaster and glory....

Mighty race! mighty race!--my flesh, my flesh
Is a cup of song,
Is a well in Asia.

ALFRED KREYMBORG

ADAGIO: A DUET

(_For J. S. and L. U._)

Should you
lay ear to these lines--
you will not catch
a distant drum of hoofs,
cavalcade of Arabians,
passionate horde bearing down,
destroying your citadel--
but maybe you'll hear--
should you just
listen at the right place,
hold it te