Hatikvah—A Song of Hope

O WHILE within a Jewish breast

Beats true a Jewish heart,

And Jewish glances turning East

To Zion fondly dart,—

CHORUS

O then our Hope—it is not dead,

Our ancient Hope and true,

Again the sacred soil to tread

Where David’s banners flew!

O while the tears flow down apace,

And fall like bounteous rain,

And to the Fathers’ resting-place

Sweeps on the mournful train,—

And while upon our eager eye

Flashes the City’s wall,

And for the wasted Sanctuary

The tear-drops trembling fall,—

O while the Jordan’s pent-up tide

Leaps downward rapidly,

And while its gleaming waters glide

Through Galilee’s blue sea,—

And while upon the Highway there

Lowers the stricken Gate,

And from the Ruins Zion’s prayer

Upriseth passionate,—

O while the pure floods of her eyes

Flow for her People’s plight,

And Zion’s Daughter doth arise

And weep the long, long night!—

O while through vein in ceaseless stream

The bright blood pulses yet,

And on our Fathers’ tombs doth gleam

The dew when sun is set!—

Hear, Brothers mine, where e’er ye be,

This Truth by Prophet won;

“’Tis then our Hope shall cease to be

With Israel’s last son!”—