The Crowd.Blood! blood! The other!Theodora.Each moment of mine exile, so distinct,So vast, so bitter, and so ever-during,Burns sweet before Our Lord: love’s last slow grainRich as the first: for lo, the censer’s broken;And all my soul foreruns her call to climbOut of this ruin. Lest I slip, or cry,O visible form of light, dear Didymus!Turn now: give me thy hand.
The Crowd.Blood! blood! The other!Theodora.Each moment of mine exile, so distinct,So vast, so bitter, and so ever-during,Burns sweet before Our Lord: love’s last slow grainRich as the first: for lo, the censer’s broken;And all my soul foreruns her call to climbOut of this ruin. Lest I slip, or cry,O visible form of light, dear Didymus!Turn now: give me thy hand.
The Crowd.Blood! blood! The other!
The Crowd.Blood! blood! The other!
Theodora.Each moment of mine exile, so distinct,So vast, so bitter, and so ever-during,Burns sweet before Our Lord: love’s last slow grainRich as the first: for lo, the censer’s broken;And all my soul foreruns her call to climbOut of this ruin. Lest I slip, or cry,O visible form of light, dear Didymus!Turn now: give me thy hand.
Theodora.Each moment of mine exile, so distinct,
So vast, so bitter, and so ever-during,
Burns sweet before Our Lord: love’s last slow grain
Rich as the first: for lo, the censer’s broken;
And all my soul foreruns her call to climb
Out of this ruin. Lest I slip, or cry,
O visible form of light, dear Didymus!
Turn now: give me thy hand.