Theodora. Why dwell in lowland shadow? Thou, ere long,
Must drink of grace divine the deathless light.
On, happy soul: for there are hills to climb,
E’en Calvary hill.
Didymus. Art thou not vested yet?
The minutes seethe and rush. Oh, had I time,
I’d tell thee of my pangs: how it has been
From march to march with me; how vehemently
The sluices brake in this tormented heart,
Last night, ten lives ago; how on yon heights