On Beholding the New Synagogue, 1840.

Ere Hebrew Minstrel’s hands were chained
Or Harps on willows slept;
Idolatry his chords had strained,
Though prophets warned and wept.
The wreath that bound his brow sublime
Fell withering at their curse
Captivity avenged the crime,
Of all his race perverse.

He sings again beneath the star
Of Freedom’s Holy Land;
And Hallelujahs heard afar
Resound from Israel’s band.
Lips are the only censers now.
To waft the heart’s oblation
On these, Eternal Ruler! throw
Thy spirit’s radiation.

Behold, O! Mighty Architect,
What love for Thee, has wrought;
This Fane arising from the wrecked,
Beauty from ashes brought.
Oh! when we glance with finite eye,
From Stars to Ocean’s shells,
A Temple each, where Deity,
Magnificently dwells.

How shrink the noblest works of man
And all his boasted powers,
Before Creation’s glorious plan
From satellites to flowers.
But Hope yet brighter far than these,
Sister of Faith divine
By her own light a blessing sees
Descending on this shrine.

From Angel now to Angel flies
Amen! in sweet accord:
Ye mortal choristers arise
And echo Mercy’s word.