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First Line: What offerings can we bring thee, lord?
Last Line: And best ripe fruits were gifts to thee!
Subject(s): Jews; Judaism


WHAT offerings can we bring Thee, Lord?
Thy ruined Temple stands forlorn;
Its stones are level with the sward
Or alien altars now adorn.
And bitter desolation stills
The lowings of the stately herds,
The bleatings on a hundred hills,
The shepherds' songs of joyous words.
No fields of corn or luscious vines
Thy people's toiling hands engage,
And from the Ghetto's dark confines
They make no holy pilgrimage
To bring their offerings to Thy shrine
With sound of tabret and of lute;
They pour a draught of bitter wine
And lay before Thee Dead Sea fruit!
Oh, give us back our fathers' days,
The land they trod in festive glee,
When harvestings were acts of praise
And best ripe fruits were gifts to Thee!





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