The Jew
Isaac Rosenberg
Moses, from whose loins I sprung, Lit by a lamp in his blood Ten immutable rules, a moon For mutable lampless men. The blonde, the bronze, the ruddy, With the same heaving blood, Keep tide to the moon of Moses. Then why do they sneer at me?
Next 10 Poems
- Isaac Rosenberg : Through These Pale Cold Days
- Christina Georgina Rossetti : A Better Resurrection
- Christina Georgina Rossetti : A Better Resurrrection
- Christina Georgina Rossetti : A Birthday
- Christina Georgina Rossetti : A City Plum
- Christina Georgina Rossetti : A Daughter Of Eve
- Christina Georgina Rossetti : A Discovery
- Christina Georgina Rossetti : A Handy Mole
- Christina Georgina Rossetti : A Pause
- Christina Georgina Rossetti : A Pin
Previous 10 Poems
- Isaac Rosenberg : The Immortals
- Isaac Rosenberg : Returning, We Hear The Larks
- Isaac Rosenberg : On Receiving News Of The War
- Isaac Rosenberg : Louse Hunting
- Isaac Rosenberg : In The Trenches
- Isaac Rosenberg : God
- Isaac Rosenberg : Dead Man's Dump
- Isaac Rosenberg : Break Of Day In The Trenches
- Theodore Roethke : The Waking
- Theodore Roethke : The Survivor