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| THE RABBI LEVI let his thoughts be cast | |
| Upon the current of remembered life, | |
| And saw the faces of his child and wife, | |
| So fair and mystical, it well might seem | |
| As if he saw by moonlight in a dream | 5 |
| What he had seen in sunlight in the past. | |
| |
| Yet at remembered sin he starts to see | |
| Remorse, most dreaded angel of the Lord, | |
| Flash back the sunshine from his awful sword. | |
| His wan cheek flushes like a dying brand; | 10 |
| “Take back, O Angel, in thy strong right hand | |
| This sweet but cruel gift of memory.” | |
| |
| “Not so,” the angel answered; “thou shalt live, | |
| Love and remember till thy work is done.” | |
| And thus the Rabbi toiled, and did not shun | 15 |
| To look upon what he himself had wrought. | |
| For years he freely learned and freely taught | |
| The wisdom that his own mistakes could give. | |
| |
| The Rabbi Levi, when his head was white, | |
| Heard a soft voice, “Henceforth no more for you | 20 |
| Shall memory come as flame, but cooling dew; | |
| “Take thou the comfort of thy heart’s release, | |
| For with thine own life thou shalt be at peace.” | |
| So, smiling, he passed out into the light. | |
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