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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE GUARDIAN OF THE RED DISK (SPOKEN BY A CITIZEN OF MALTA - 1300), by EMMA LAZARUS Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: A curious title held in high repute Last Line: Guarding the red disklest one rogue escape! Subject(s): Catholics; Clergy; Jews; Roman Catholics; Catholicism; Priests; Rabbis; Ministers; Bishops; Judaism | |||
A CURIOUS title held in high repute, One among many honors, thickly strewn On my Lord Bishop's head, his grace of Malta. Nobly he bears them all,with tact, skill, zeal, Fulfils each special office, vast or slight, Nor slurs the least minutia,therewithal Wears such a stately aspect of command, Broad-cheeked, broad-chested, reverend, sanctified, Haloed with white about the tonsure's rim, With dropped lids o'er the piercing Spanish eyes (Lynx-keen, I warrant, to spy out heresy); Tall, massive form, o'ertowering all in presence, Or ere they kneel to kiss the large white hand. His looks sustain his deeds,the perfect prelate, Whose void chair shall be taken, but not filled. You know not, who are foreign to the isle, Haply, what this Red Disk may be, he guards. 'Tis the bright blotch, big as the Royal seal, Branded beneath the beard of every Jew. These vermin so infest the isle, so slide Into all byways, highways that may lead Direct or roundabout to wealth or power, Some plain, plump mark was needed, to protect From degrading contact Christian folk. The evil had grown monstrous: certain Jews Wore such a haughty air, had so refined, With super-subtile arts, strict, monkish lives, And studious habit, the coarse Hebrew type, One might have elbowed in the public mart Iscariot,nor suspected one's soul-peril. Christ's blood! it sets my flesh a-creep to think! We may breathe freely now, not fearing taint, Praised be our good Lord Bishop! He keeps count Of every Jew, and prints on cheek or chin The scarlet stamp of separateness, of shame. No beard, blue-black, grizzled or Judas-colored, May hide that damning little wafer-flame. When one appears therewith, the urchins know Good sport's at hand; they fling their stones and mud, Sure of their game. But most the wisdom shows Upon the unbelievers' selves; they learn Their proper rank; crouch, cringe, and hide,lay by Their insolence of self-esteem; no more Flaunt forth in rich attire, but in dull weeds, Slovenly donned, would slink past unobserved; Bow servile necks and crook obsequious knees, Chin sunk in hollow chest, eyes fixed on earth Or blinking sidewise, but to apprehend Whether or not the hated spot be spied. I warrant my Lord Bishop has full hands, Guarding the Red Disklest one rogue escape! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RABBI'S SON-IN-LAW by SABINE BARING-GOULD A LITTLE HISTORY by DAVID LEHMAN FOR I WILL CONSIDER YOUR DOG MOLLY by DAVID LEHMAN JEWISH GRAVEYARDS, ITALY by PHILIP LEVINE NATIONAL THOUGHTS by YEHUDA AMICHAI SOUNDS OF THE RESURRECTED DEAD MAN'S FOOTSTEPS (#3): 2. ANGEL ... by MARVIN BELL |
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