Poly monologue — Polyeucte

These tears I shed! O, might the Spirit pour Through them the light, the light that I adore-- Then were my only grief all swept away, For thou wouldst join me in the realms of day! Else Heaven itself would have its bitterness, Should I look down to witness thy distress! O God, who lov'st the dust on which Thy breath Hath stamped Thine image true--save her from death! The only death that kills, and let my love From Heaven woo her to the realms above! Lord, hear my call! My inmost heart now see, Who lives a Christian life must Christian be! Her nature god-like, stamped from print divine; She must be sealed Thine own, yes, only Thine! Say, must she burn, condemned to depths of hell?-- Thy Will be done--Who doest all things well!