In Tisri's holier season,
From City of the Palms
To where onycha incense soared
Amid Hosanna psalms,
Waved green from every housetop,
Gay plumes of laurel tree;
Whilst silver trumpets pealed afar
The tones of victory.
Since through atoning sacrifice
Had dawned the spirit's peace;
And through earth's toil a rich reward
Was reaped, in earth's increase.
Though ruin marks where Tadmor reigned,
And Israel roameth far;
No shoals may stem the mercy-tide;
No power Heaven's largess bar.
Then through the great Atonement's dawn,
Be lit our sin-dimmed eyes;
Till grateful accents pierce the mist,
Into rejoicing skies.
Till garnered fruit, and aftermath;
Till Autumn's tender shine
With farewell tones of woodland song,
Reflect the Love Divine.