dom mar.
Is this poor life--the creature of a day
For endless peace too great a price to pay?

PAUL.
'Out on these Christian dreams!' my reason cries;
Whene'er they speak of truth, they utter lies.
Thou say'st: 'To win such prize my life is naught!'
But is thy life thine own? How was it bought?
Our life an heirloom to our country due;
What gave thee birth, demands thy service too?
Pay, then thy debt to her who has the right!

POLY.
Ah, for my country I would gladly fight!
I know the glory of a hero's name,
I feel the thrill,--I recognise the claim.
My life I owe to whom I owe my sword--
But most to Him who gave it--to the Lord!
Oh, if to die for fatherland be sweet,
To die for Him--my God--what word is meet?

PAUL.
Which God?

POLY.
Hush! hush! Pauline; the God who hears
And answers prayers,--gives hopes, assuages fears.
Thy gods are deaf and senseless, maimed and weak,
Tongues, mouths they have, and yet they cannot speak.
The Christians' God alone is mine,--is thine,
Jehovah only rules--supreme--divine!

PAUL.
Adore Him in thy heart, but say no word!

POLY.
What! Can I call Jove and Jehovah--Lord?

PAUL.
One moment feign. Ah, let Severus go!
Let but my father all his kindness show!

POLY.
Another Father mine! His love most dear
Removes me from a world begirt with fear.
For life's stern race too weak, too frail am I,
So, by kind death, He gives me Victory.
Pure from the holy font--(His mercies never fail!)
He brings His barque to port, when it hath scarce set sail.
Couldst thou but understand how poor this earth,
Couldst thou but grasp how great this second birth!
And yet, why speak of treasure rare concealed
From one to whom light is yet unrevealed?

PAUL.
O cruel! I can strangle pain no more!
Is this the fruit of all thy heavenly lore?
They say thy Christ His enemies did bless,
Thou addest insult to my deep distress.
How is my soul so dark--which was so fair?--
Thou call'dst me 'lovely'--'dear'--'beyond compare!'--
Of my bereavement have I said no word,
I stilled my grief that I might soothe my lord!
They say that love has wings, and all they say is true,
For all thy love has flown; yet can I ne'er undo
The vo