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The Song of the Eighth Day of Pesach

עוד היום בנב לעמד, ינפף ידו הר (בית) בת ציון גבעת ירושלם.

There is still a day remaining in Nov; he shall shake his hand [against] the mount of the daughter of Zion, the hill of Yerushalayim.[i]

Question: the Mystery of the Missing שהחיינו

The second (2nd) set of holy days during Pesaĉ are different from every other holy day set forth by the Torah, in that we do not recite the ברכה of שהחיינו.[ii] Why not?

Some would argue – and indeed, prominent Halaĉic codifiers such as the Rambam[iii] and the Shulĉan Aruĉ[iv] note this – that the reason we do not recite the ברכה of שהחיינו on the seventh (7th) and eighth (8th) days of Pesaĉ is because these days are considered a continuation of the first days. Therefore, we have already recited the ברכה on the first day, and a fundamental criterion of the ברכה of שהחיינו is that it must be recited on something entirely new.[v]

However, upon deeper analysis, this response points to a much deeper theological mystery:

The Refusal to Find a Workaround: In the diaspora, we do recite the ברכה of שהחיינו on the second (2nd) day of the Yom Tov.[vi] Initially, the Jews of Babylon kept two (2) days due to the doubt of the calendar. We however do so because we maintain that custom of our ancestors.[vii] Because today we know what day the Yom Tov truly is, the Halaĉa requires us to have a new fruit or garment in mind while reciting the ברכה of שהחיינו on the second (2nd) day, ensuring the ברכה is not recited in vain.[viii] This teaches us a profound meta-Halaĉic principle: The Sages were perfectly willing and able to institute a “trick” or workaround to allow the Jewish people to recite שהחיינו. And yet, no such effort is made to do so on the seventh (7th) and eighth (8th) days of Pesaĉ. The Sages (Rambam and Rabbi Yosef Cairo for example) did not look for an excuse to say it; rather they looked for and accepted the reasons not to say it. This indicates a deliberate choice to keep these days devoid of this specific ברכה.
Distinct Miracles: Although not stated explicitly in the Torah, the first (1st) and seventh (7th) days of Pesaĉ seem to be celebrating completely different miracles: The first (1st) day celebrates the physical Exodus, while the seventh (7th) day celebrates the splitting of the sea. Since they commemorate different miracles, it would be highly appropriate for the Sages to have instituted a mechanism to recite שהחיינו for reaching a Yom Tov that celebrates something seemingly fundamentally different.

The Question remains: Why are the seventh (7th) and eighth (8th) days of Pesaĉ different, in that the Sages deliberately chose not to institute the ברכה of שהחיינו on them—not even with a Halaĉic excuse by buying something new?

Deepening the Question: The Incomplete Ha’lel

We find that the missing שהחיינו isn’t the only “reducing” feature of the latter days of Pesaĉ. Unlike the other pilgrimage festivals, full Ha’lel is not recited throughout the Yom Tov. Instead, it is only recited on the first day or days.[ix]

Interestingly, the Gemara asks the exact same question in reverse. The Gemara asks: Why is Sukkos different, in that the entire Ha’lel is recited throughout the holiday? The answer provided is that there are different daily Musaf offerings brought in the Base Hamikdash on Sukkos, and therefore each day is entirely unique. On Pesaĉ, however, the exact same Musaf offering is offered throughout the remainder of the Yom Tov.

While this answers the Gemara’s question, it leaves our underlying theological question unresolved: Why does G-d not provide an extra offering for the seventh (7th) day of Pesaĉ, like He does for every other holy day? From the perspective of the Temple offerings, why is there zero difference between Ĉol Hamo’ed Pesaĉ and the holy seventh (7th) day of Pesaĉ?

Some authorities[x] offer an explanation based on a famous Midrash found in the Gemara[xi]:

בְּאוֹתָהּ שָׁעָה בִּקְשׁוּ מַלְאֲכֵי הַשָּׁרֵת לוֹמַר שִׁירָה לִפְנֵי הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא אָמַר לָהֶן הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא מַעֲשֵׂה יָדַי טוֹבְעִין בַּיָּם וְאַתֶּם אוֹמְרִים שִׁירָה

At that hour, the ministering angels wanted to recite a song before the Holy One, Blessed be He. The Holy One, Blessed be He, said to them: “My handiwork is drowning in the sea, and you are reciting a song?”

These commentaries explain that we do not recite full Ha’lel during the intermediary days so as not to reduce the holiness of the seventh (7th) day of Pesaĉ to a level below Ĉol Hamo’ed Pesaĉ.

Applying this Midrash as the sole reason for our diminished Ha’lel presents severe logical difficulties:

As the Midrash explicitly states, the angels were prevented from singing, but the Jews were not – because the Jews were the ones actually experiencing the miracle.
More importantly, if the suffering of our oppressors universally mitigates our ability to recite full praises, we would see this applied elsewhere. Yet, on Ĉanuka, we recite the complete Ha’lel for eight (8) days despite the massive casualties of the Syrian-Greeks. On Purim, we read the Megilla (which the Gemara states serves in place of Ha’lel) despite the destruction of Haman and his followers. The Sages did not lessen those celebrations out of sympathy for our destroyed oppressors. Why is Pesaĉ uniquely diminished?

Examining the Idea of a “Half” Ha’lel

The concept of a “Half Ha’lel”

The origin of the half Ha’lel is found in the Gemara:[xii] The Talmud tells a famous story about the Amora, Rav, who traveled from the Land of Israel down to Babylonia. When Rosh Ĉodesh arrived, he was shocked to hear the congregation reciting Ha’lel, which was not the practice in the Land of Israel.

Rav was prepared to stop them. However, he noticed that they were “skipping” verses, Rav stepped back and said: “Since they are skipping, it demonstrates that they are upholding the custom of their ancestors.” Meaning,the recital of the “half” Ha’lel is not to fulfil the Mitzva of reciting Ha’lel, but rather to continue a Minhag of our ancestors.

Why pass over sections of Ha’lel?

The decision to skip pieces is a deliberate Halaĉic mechanism designed by the Jews of Babylon to prevent confusion between a Minhag and a strict obligation. By intentionally breaking the structure of the prayer and skipping the first halves of two (2) of the chapters of Tehillim[xiii] in Ha’lel, two purposes are accomplished:

It validates the desire to praise: Allowing the community to express joy on special days.
It maintains Halaĉic hierarchy: The intentional “flaw” reminds the person praying that the recitation on this day is a lesser obligation – namely that of a custom rather than the Mitzva of Ha’lel.

If we examine this closely, a new understanding emerges. If during Ĉol Hamo’ed Pesaĉ we only recite a half Ha’lel, it is because it reflects a lesser joy, lacking both in a unique miracle and a distinct Musaf.

On the other hand, the seventh (7th) day is radically different:

It is a מקרא קודש – a holy day as defined strictly by the Torah[xiv].
It commemorates a world-altering miracle: the splitting of the sea.

However, understanding the mechanics of the half Ha’lel only amplifies our original question:

Why is the seventh (7th) day of Pesaĉ so strangely diminished?

The Sages enacted no obligation to recite a שהחיינו – avoiding even a custom to use a workaround, as is done on the second days’ in the diaspora.
It lacks its own Musaf offering.
We deliberately recite an incomplete Ha’lel.

Switching the Focus: The Posture of Redemption

The Mishnah[xv] lists the differences between Pesaĉ Mitzrayim (the original Pesaĉ in Egypt) and Pesaĉ Doros (Pesaĉ of subsequent generations). The original Pesaĉ had to be eaten with loins girded, shoes on their feet and walking-staff in hand[xvi], whereas in future generations, we are commanded to recline like royalty[xvii].

To understand why this readiness to “go” was dropped, it helps to look closely at the Hebrew word the Torah uses for this state of readiness: חִפָּזוֹן. The root denotes much more than just logistical speed; it carries a profound connotation of panic, anxiety, and a sudden, rushed flight.

In the mechanics of Lashon HaKodesh, words that share permuted root letters share a conceptual core. The letters of ח-פ-ז are the exact same letters found in the root פ-ח-ז. We see this root used when Yaakov reprimands Reuvain[xviii]: פַּחַז כַּמַּיִם אַל תּוֹתַר – Unstable [impetuous] as water, you shall not be supreme.

This proves grammatically that the original Exodus was an inherently unstable, chaotic spiritual state.

Several classic commentaries use this exact psychological nuance to explain why this posture was abandoned:

The Sefer HaĈinuĉ: The Posture of Freedom

The Sefer HaĈinuĉ[xix] explains that the physical requirements of Pesaĉ in Egypt were a הוראת שעה – a temporary decree. The primary Mitzva of Pesaĉ is to internalize freedom. The psychological reality of a free person is fundamentally incompatible with standing anxiously by the door with ‘girded loins, and walking staff in hand’. Reenacting the panicked, unstable flight of חִפָּזוֹן every year would contradict the very feeling of liberation the Seder is designed to instill.

The Maharal: Why Not Show Readiness in Exile?

While this explains why we are not commanded to imitate the חִפָּזוֹן of the initial Pesaĉ, why don’t we do it anyway today? As we are currently in exile waiting for Moshiaĉ, shouldn’t we be sitting with our bags packed?

The Maharal of Prague[xx] draws a distinction between the Exodus from Egypt and the ultimate future redemption. The original Exodus required חִפָּזוֹן because it was a spiritual emergency; the Jews had sunk in morality to be nearly indistinguishable from the Egyptians.

However, the future redemption from our current exile is entirely different. The Prophet Yeshayahu explicitly contrasts the Exodus from Egypt with the final redemption[xxi]:

כִּי לֹא בְחִפָּזוֹן תֵּצֵאוּ וּבִמְנוּסָה לֹא תֵלֵכוּן כִּי הֹלֵךְ לִפְנֵיכֶם ה’ וּמְאַסִּפְכֶם אֱלֹקֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל

For you shall not go out in haste, neither shall you go by flight; for G-d goes before you, and the G-d of Yisroel is the one who gathers you in.

The final redemption will not be a panicked escape. It will be a deliberate, natural unfolding of history, characterized by tranquility. We cannot wait for Moshiaĉ in a state of חִפָּזוֹן (instability). Reenacting the anxiety of Egypt today would send the wrong theological message. Instead, we recline as royalty, demonstrating our absolute faith that this redemption is a permanent, tranquil return.

Deepening the Connection with the Final Redemption

The association between the seventh and eighth days of Pesaĉ (אחרון של פסח) and the era of Moshiaĉ is deeply woven into Jewish law, liturgy, and mysticism.[1]

The Song of the Sea and the Dead Rising Alive

The Gemara[xxii] points out a striking grammatical anomaly in the opening verse[xxiii] of the song:

אָז יָשִׁיר מֹשֶׁה וּבְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל אֶת הַשִּׁירָה הַזֹּאת לַה’…

Then Moshe and the children of Yisroel will sing this song to G-d…

The Gemara notes that this uses the future tense (“will sing”) because it is a textual proof for תחיית המתים – Resurrection of the Dead. Just as Moshe and the Jewish people sang at the sea, Moshe will sing again in the future redemption.

The Prophetic Parallel

The prophet Miĉah prophesized:[xxiv]

כִּימֵי צֵאתְךָ מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם אַרְאֶנּוּ נִפְלָאוֹת

As in the days of your exodus from the land of Egypt, I will show them wonders.

Because the Exodus is the prototype for and directly connected to the final redemption, the Sages structured the Yom Tov to reflect this: the first days commemorate the past redemption; the final days anticipate the coming of Moshiaĉ.

The Ĉassidic Tradition: “Seudas Moshiaĉ”

This conceptual link was translated into a physical custom by the Baal Shem Tov, who instituted the practice of eating a special final meal, late in the afternoon on the last day of Pesaĉ, known as סעודת משיח – the meal of Moshiaĉ. Just as the first Seder brings the energy of the past Exodus into the present, the final meal draws the energy of the future redemption into our current reality.

Reexamining our Questions

With this connection in mind, let us reconsider our fundamental questions about the latter days of Pesaĉ. Since this Yom Tov celebrates the ultimate redemption – one that has not yet been fully experienced – therefore:

How can we recite the full Ha’lel for a miracle that is inherently incomplete?
How can we be commanded to offer a unique Musaf offering when G-d hasn’t fully delivered us yet?

The miracles associated with the complete redemption were currently incomplete – therefore, the celebration for that redemption was intentionally incomplete. This incompleteness is most heavily emphasized on Pesaĉ – זמן חרותינו – the Yom Tov of redemption.

Which brings us to our most fundamental question from the opposite perspective: What is going on?

How are we celebrating redemption that hasn’t occurred?
Or, if we are already celebrating it, why hasn’t it occurred?

Examining the Haftorahs

The Haftorah for the Seventh Day in Israel

The Haftorah for the seventh (7th) day of Pesaĉ, as recited both in Israel and in the diaspora, is King Dovid’s song of praise[xxv]:

וַיְדַבֵּר דָּוִד לַה’ אֶת דִּבְרֵי הַשִּׁירָה הַזֹּאת בְּיוֹם הִצִּיל ה’ אֹתוֹ מִכַּף כָּל אֹיְבָיו וּמִכַּף שָׁאוּל

And Dovid spoke to G-d the words of this song on the day that G-d delivered him from the palm of all his enemies, and from the palm of Shaul.

Interestingly, although Dovid sings in praise for having been redeemed, he is still facing an incomplete salvation. He is prevented by G-d from building the Base Hamikdash. His miracle is incomplete – a reflection of the incomplete redemption in exile.[2]

The Haftorah for the Eighth Day

On the eighth day of Pesaĉ in the Diaspora, the prophecy vividly describing the miracles and peace of the era of Moshiaĉ is read, containing the famous prophecy of[xxvi]:

וְגָר זְאֵב עִם כֶּבֶשׂ וְנָמֵר עִם גְּדִי יִרְבָּץ וְעֵגֶל וּכְפִיר וּמְרִיא יַחְדָּו וְנַעַר קָטֹן נֹהֵג בָּם

And the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid [goat]; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child leads them.

And this prophecy is not limited to the global changes in the era of Moshiaĉ – it also speaks at a personal level to each and every Jew in the verse:

וְנָחָה עָלָיו רוּחַ ה’ רוּחַ חָכְמָה וּבִינָה רוּחַ עֵצָה וּגְבוּרָה רוּחַ דַּעַת וְיִרְאַת ה’

And the spirit of G-d will rest upon him; the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of advice and heroism, the spirit of intimate knowledge and awe of G-d.

Putting the Campaign of Sanĉeirev into Proper Historical Perspective

Yet, the Haftorah doesn’t begin with those utopian verses. It begins by speaking of the sudden halt of the military campaign of Sanĉeirev:[xxvii]

עוֹד הַיּוֹם בְּנֹב לַעֲמֹד יְנֹפֵף יָדוֹ הַר בַּת צִיּוֹן גִּבְעַת יְרוּשָׁלִָם

There is still a day to stand in Nov; he shall shake his hand at the mount of the daughter of Tziyon, hill of Yerushalayim.

As we learnt in the Gemara[xxviii], there was a heavenly decree issued against the Jewish people for the massacre by Shaul of the Kohanim of Nov for daring to hide Dovid rather than turn him over to be killed by Shaul. Sanĉeirev’s astrologers warned him that this heavenly decree against the Jewish people would expire that very day. If he attacked immediately, he would win. He scoffed and rested rather than pressing the attack – a fatal decision. With the expiration of the heavenly decree against the Jewish people; that night, an angel wiped out his entire camp.

The Sages started the Haftorah of Moshiaĉ here because the miraculous destruction of Sanĉeirev’s army happened specifically on the night of Pesaĉ. Starting the Haftorah here reminds the congregation that Pesaĉ is an ongoing season of redemption. Furthermore, the Gemara there states that G-d originally intended to make King Ĉizkiyahu into Moshiaĉ.

However, this doesn’t fully resolve our questions: The existence of yet another massive miracle on Pesaĉ should theoretically increase the requirement to celebrate fully. It doesn’t. Furthermore, as we established before in the name of the Maharal, our expectation of the final redemption is not one of sudden, overnight upheaval like Sanĉeirev’s defeat by an angel overnight. Why then start the Haftorah with the failed campaign of Sanĉeirev?

Rather, we must understand the conquest of Sanĉeirev in its historical context. From the perspective of the Divine plan[3], the purpose of his entire military campaign[4] was to mix up the genealogy of all the nations of the world. His war was part of the beginning of the process of the ultimate redemption, in which the nations can no longer trace their history to their roots in evil.

We see this effect in the practical application of several Mitzvos related to the world-wide eradication of evil people; for example, the requirement to destroy the seven (7) Cana’anite nations can no longer be enacted, because no one knows who they are.

Thus, the era of Moshiaĉ already began thousands of years ago, where the evil people in the world [like the Cana’anites] were utterly vanquished by Sanĉeirev. The process has been slowly unfolding ever since.

Answer

With this understanding in mind, it is apparent why we insist on reciting [at least a half] Ha’lel on the seventh (7th) day of Pesaĉ, even though there is no strict Halaĉic requirement to do so, and why we insist on celebrating with Seudas Moshiaĉ.

And this is precisely why the Sages deliberately refused to find a workaround for שהחיינו. We couldn’t[5] bless G-d for fully “bringing us to this new season” because the ultimate season of redemption had not yet fully arrived.

But from our perspective; we are already sitting at the table at Seudas Moshiaĉ, reclining in royal tranquility rather than panicked hurry. We aren’t just ready; we’ve already begun. Most especially in exile, on the day when Pesaĉ rules are elevated[6], we are not silent without Ha’lel.

We celebrate the redemption that has already practically begun.

Sing about the Redemption

Speaking of Celebrating the Redemption

This also explains the connection to Ĉizkiyahu. The Gemara states that while G-d intended to designate him as Moshiaĉ, the Attribute of Justice argued against it: “Master of the Universe! If Dovid, who recited many songs and praises to you, was not made Moshiaĉ, then Ĉizkiyahu, for whom You performed all these miracles and yet he did not recite a song of praise before You, how can You make him Moshiaĉ?”

Seeing that Ĉizkiyahu remained silent, the Prince of the Earth stepped forward and offered to sing the song on his behalf[xxix]:

מִכְּנַף הָאָרֶץ זְמִרֹת שָׁמַעְנוּ צְבִי לַצַּדִּיק

From the uttermost part of the earth have we heard songs: Glory to the righteous.

However, the opportunity had already been lost. Because the essence of Moshiaĉ is to elevate the entire world to recognize and praise G-d, Ĉizkiyahu’s failure to spontaneously break out in song demonstrated that the generation had not reached the absolute spiritual perfection required to usher in the ultimate redemption.[7]

The Tragedy of the Missing Song

This failure to sing is a recurring historical tragedy that actively delays the ultimate redemption. When the Jewish people miraculously crossed the Yarden under Yehoshua – a miracle physically on par with the splitting of the sea – they did not spontaneously break into a communal song of praise. To highlight this glaring omission, the Masoretic text of the Navi contains an abrupt, deliberate blank space (a פרשה פתוחה – an open paragraph break) in the book of Yehoshua[xxx], right after the crossing is completed. It is an empty space where the song of praise was supposed to be recorded.

This silence is deeply problematic because a song of praise is not merely a polite gesture of gratitude; it is a reflection of a vital spiritual mechanism. It elevates the divine revelation a person has experienced to become transformative in that person’s psyche – rendering him so joy filled that he bursts into spontaneous song[8].

Joyful Song is the Catalyst to the Spiritual Awakening of the Era of Moshiaĉ and the Return of Prophecy

This brings us to a foundational concept heavily championed by the Lubavitcher Rebbe, particularly throughout the 1980s[9]. The Rebbe emphasized that שמחה – Joy, especially as expressed through song, is not just a byproduct or a reaction to salvation; it is the very engine of our Divine service. The Ĉassidic principle dictates that שמחה פורץ גדר – joy has the power to break through all boundaries and limitations.

When a miracle occurs and a person remains silent, it demonstrates that they are still emotionally and spiritually constrained. Their personal Amalek is able to sway them with a little “so what” and cool them down. They have not internalized the limitless nature of the Divine revelation they experienced. Ĉizkiyahu’s silence, and the silence at the Yarden River, kept the boundaries of exile intact. To bring Moshiaĉ, the Sages understood that we must supply the missing joy that previous generations lacked.

The Tenth Song and the Return of Prophecy

This missing joy is not just a generic expression of happiness; it has a very specific spiritual target – the Tenth (10^th) Song.

The Midrash[xxxi] enumerates ten (10) Great Songs sung throughout history.[10] The first nine (9) – including the song at the sea אז ישיר משה ובני ישראל את השירה הזאת and the song of Dovid וידבר דוד את דברי השירה הזאת – are all referred to in the feminine form, Shirah (שִׁירָה).[11] The Sages explain that just as a woman experiences the pains of labor, these past redemptions were all followed by the “labor pains” of subsequent exiles.

However, the tenth and final Great Song, reserved for the Era of Moshiaĉ, is referred to in the masculine form, Shir (שִׁיר) – as it says[xxxii],

שירו לה’ שיר חדש

Sing to G-d a New Song.

The masculine form represents a reality that does not give birth to further pain or exile; it is permanent and tranquil.

But why is joyous songthe necessary catalyst for this permanent redemption? Kabbalisticly, song is the ultimate vessel used to draw down prophecy and רוח הקודש – Divine revelation. We see this explicitly with the prophet Elisha, who, after being angered by king Yehoshafat’s lack of faith, required music to achieve prophecy[xxxiii]:

וְהָיָה כְּנַגֵּן הַמְנַגֵּן וַתְּהִי עָלָיו יַד ה’

And it happened, when the minstrel played, that the hand of G-d came upon him.

Take it Personal

This brings us directly back to the Haftorah of the eighth (8th) day, and its prophecies about the attributes of Moshiaĉ: וְנָחָה עָלָיו רוּחַ ה’ רוּחַ חָכְמָה וּבִינָה רוּחַ עֵצָה וּגְבוּרָה רוּחַ דַּעַת וְיִרְאַת ה’ And the spirit of G-d will rest upon him; the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of advice and heroism, the spirit of intimate knowledge and awe of G-d.

While this prophecy speaks directly of Moshiaĉ, the ultimate goal of the redemption is that this prophetic spirit will be fulfilled within every single Jew. This is exactly what we ask in the liturgy of the Yom Tov prayers: ויתקיים בנו מקרא שכתוב – and that this verse written should be fulfilled within us [each and every one of us], that G-d purify our hearts and allow us to experience the full, joyous revelation of prophecy and the Divine Presence, and finally sing the tenth (10^th) song of Moshiaĉ.

[1] Biblically, this association belongs to the seventh day, though in the diaspora, the most overt Moshiaĉ themes are pushed to the eighth (8th) day.

[2] Even if we are saved from all our enemies – even from any enmity among the Jewish people – our salvation is still incomplete if we cannot build the Base Hamikdash. And yet, Dovid still sang a personal song of thanksgiving to G-d – which was incorporated and adopted for the public in Tehillim.

[3] Which we can now understand in retrospect through the teaching of the Gemara regarding the effect he had on the world.

[4] Excluding the attempt on Yerushalayim, which purpose was to have him defeated by the angel.

[5] As of the writing of this essay – we are still in exile. But I am hopeful that by the time people might read this, the exile will already be in the past tense.

[6] to the point where we eat Gebroĉts

[7] Another reason for starting the Haftorah with עוֹד הַיּוֹם בְּנֹב לַעֲמֹד – based on the principle taught by Rav Naĉman of חוצפה אפילו כלפי שמיא מהני – audacity helps even when addressing Heaven (Gem. Sanhedrin 105a) – perhaps we can say that starting the Haftorah with the verse about Nov is somewhat of an argument on our behalf. If the murder of an entire city of Kohanim was only punishable for a couple hundred years, certainly whatever sins existed thousands of years ago have been expunged.

Why then are we still being punished with exile?

[8] Or at least speak the words of the song if you can’t sing, as the verse states וידבר דוד לה’ את דברי השירה הזאת – and Dovid spoke to G-d the words of this song… Or as the popular Yiddish phrase goes: נו זאג א ניגון.

[9] He even named an entire year after it – the year 5748 תשמ”ח

[10] The Lubavitcher Rebbe taught us the following songs that [as far as I can tell] he himself composed:

צמא לך נפשי – [Tehillim 63:2-3] & צמא לך נפשי, ех тьи дурний Марко
דרכך אלקינו – [Seliĉos]
כי אנו עמיך – [Yom Kippur Davening] x2 versions
רחמנא דעני לעניי
אתה בחרתנו
הוא אלקינו

He also taught songs composed by others, which were not widely known:

ויהי שעמדה – [Haggadah of Pesaĉ]
אסדר לסעודתא – [Shabbos Daytime Song]
Shamil’s Niggun
אנים זמירות
став Я питиу – I became a drinker

[11] Interestingly, one of the things the Pardes [23:21] explains is that the word ישראל is composed of the words שיר א-ל – to be Jewish is to be the Song of G-d. In other words, the Jewish people are G-d’s song.

[i] Yeshayahu 10:32

[ii] Shulĉan Aruĉ, Oreĉ Ĉaim 490:7

[iii] Hilĉos Ĉametz U’Matzah 8:1

[iv] Oreĉ Ĉaim 490:7

[v] Gem. Eiruvin 40b; Shulĉan Aruĉ, Oreĉ Ĉaim 225:3

[vi] Shulĉan Aruĉ, Oreĉ Ĉaim 473:1

[vii] Gem. Bay’tza 4b

[viii] Shulĉan Aruĉ, Oreĉ Ĉaim 600:2

[ix] Gemara Eraĉin 10b; Shulĉan Aruĉ, Oreĉ Ĉaim 490:4

[x] Such as Shibbolei HaLeket 174, and the Beis Yosef on Oreĉ Ĉaim 490

[xi] Gem. Megilla 10b and Sanhedrin 39b

[xii] Gem. Ta’anis 28b

[xiii] Tehillim 115 and 116

[xiv] Shemos 12:16

[xv] Gem. Pesaĉim 96a

[xvi] See Shemos 12:11

[xvii] Rambam, חמץ ומצה 7:7

[xviii] Beraishis 49:4

[xix] Mitzvah 21

[xx] Gevuros Hashem 36

[xxi] Yeshayahu 52:12

[xxii] Gem. Sanhedrin 91b

[xxiii] Shemos 15:1

[xxiv] Miĉa 7:15

[xxv] Shmuel II 22:1

[xxvi] Yeshayahu 11:6

[xxvii] Yeshayahu 10:32

[xxviii] Gem. Sanhedrin 95a

[xxix] Yeshayahu 24:16

[xxx] Yehoshua 4:1

[xxxi] Meĉilta, Maseĉta D’Shira 1; and Targum to Shir HaShirim 1:1

[xxxii] Yeshayahu 42:10

[xxxiii] Melaĉim II 3:15