The Jew to Jesus - Florence Kiper Frank
O man of my own people, I alone
Among these alien ones can know thy face,
I who have felt the kinship of our race
Burn in me as I sit where they intone
Thy praises – those who, striving to make known
A God for sacrifice, have missed the grace
Of thy sweet human meaning I its place,
Thou who art of or blood-bond and our own.
Are we not sharers of thy Passion? Yea,
In spirit-anguish closely by thy side
We have drained the bitter cup, and, tortured, felt
With thee the bruising of each heavy welt.
In every land is our Gethsemane.
A thousand times have we been crucified.
Florence Kiper Frank