Fresh Christian zeal remains not always new,
The sight of death compels a saner view.

PAUL.
O, if thou lov'st him still, all hope forsake!
In one day can he two conversions make?
Not this the Christians' mould: they never change;
His heart is fixed--past power of man to estrange.
This is no poison quaffed all unawares,
What martyrs do and dare--that Polyeucte dares;
He saw the lure by which he was enticed,
He thinks the universe well lost for Christ.
I know the breed; I know their courage high,
They love the cross,--so, for the cross, they die.
We see two stakes of wood, the felon's shame,
They see a halo round one matchless Name.
To powers of earth, and hell, and torture blind,
In death, for Him they love, they rapture find.
They joy in agony,--our gain their loss,
To die for Christ they count the world but dross:
Our rack their crown, our pain their highest pleasure,
And in the world's contempt they find their treasure.
Their cherished heritage is--martyrdom!

FELIX.
Let then this heir into his kingdom come! No more!--

PAUL.
O father!