Part 4 (1/2)

_Leah._ All hearts warmed as they spoke; and, catching their gladness, we come to you.

_Mary._ Then shall we indeed hope! O my people! my people Israel!

shall we see you again in your former glory?

_Martha._ Surely, this news inspires my own soul. Once more shall the Roman be driven forth by the Lord of hosts; once more ”shall Jehovah triumph, and his people be free.”

_Salome._ Yes; and Messiah shall bring all nations into subjection to _us_, as we are now to the Romans.

_Anna._ Well may we wait a little longer, and bear the yoke with patience.

_Mary._ I knew the Lord would not always chide, nor keep his anger for ever. Now may we rejoice and glory in the G.o.d of our salvation.

_Martha._ Once more shall the name of _a Jew_ be somewhat more than a byword. When our King shall ride forth in his majesty, conquering and to conquer, then shall the Jews be terrible to their enemies, honored by their friends, and known everywhere as the people of the whole earth whom the Lord delighteth to honor.

_Leah._ Let us tarry no longer here, feasting on these good things alone; but away; and, in every closet and from every house-top, let us spread the good news.

_Mary._ Let us first, however, sing to Jehovah a song of triumph, and then to our work.

_Miriam._ Even so let it be.

Then arose, beautifully sung, this

JEWISH SONG.

Welcome day, oh, welcome day! a Saviour is born!

Welcome day, oh, welcome day! no longer we mourn.

Our nation, exulting O'er foes long insulting, Sings aloud, now sings aloud,--Oh, welcome this day!

Lift your voice, oh, lift your voice! Jehovah is G.o.d!

Lift your voice, oh, lift your voice! He has lifted the rod.

With goodness unceasing, From bondage releasing, We his people will sing,--Jehovah, is G.o.d!

Sound it forth, oh, sound it forth! Messias hath come!

Sound it forth, oh, sound it forth! through every sad home.

With power avenging, Our great wrongs revenging, He has come, he has come, Messias hath come!

Joy is ours, oh, joy is ours! his sword shall defend!

Joy is ours, oh, joy is ours! our foes shall now bend.

While at their yoke spurning, Their insults returning, Joy is ours,--we are free,--his sword shall defend!

Mrs. S.H. Winkley.