Out of the land of heaven
Down comes the warm Sabbath sun
Into the spice-box of earth.
The Queen will make every Jew her lover.
        In a white silk coat
Our rabbi dances up the street,
Wearing our lawns like a green prayer-shawl,
Brandishing houses like silver flags.
        Behind him dance his pupils,
Dancing not so high
And chanting the rabbi's prayer,
But not so sweet.
         And who waits for him
On a throne at the end of the street
But the Sabbath Queen.
         Down go his hands
Into the spice-box of the earth,
And there he finds the fragrant sun
For a wedding ring,
And draws her wedding finger through.
         Now back down the street they go,
Dancing higher than the silver flags.
His pupils somewhere have found wives too,
And all are chanting the rabbi's song
And leaping high in the perfumed air,
          Who calls him Rabbi?
Cart-horse and dogs call him Rabbi,
And he tells them:
The Queen makes every Jew her lover,
And gathering on their green lawns
The people call him Rabbi,
And fill their mouths with good bread
And his happy song.