Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/114

100 And look men in the eyes! What penitence, What scourging of the flesh, what rigid fasts, What terrible privations may suffice To cleanse me in the sight of God and man? &quot; Ill-omened silence followed his appeal. Patient and motionless he lay awhile, Then sprang unto his feet with sudden force, Confronting in his breathless vehemence, With palpitating heart, the timid priest. &quot; Answer me, as you hope for a response, One day, at the great judgment-seat yourself.&quot; &quot; I cannot answer,&quot; said the simple priest, &quot; I have not understood.&quot; &quot; Just God! is this The curse Thou layest upon me ? I outstrip The sympathy and brotherhood of men, So far removed is my experience From their clean innocence. Inspire me, Prompt me to words that bring me near to them ! Father,&quot; in gentler accents he resumed, &quot;Thank Heaven at your every orison That sin like mine you cannot apprehend. More than the truth perchance I have confessed, But I have sinned, and darkly, this is true ; And I have suffered, and am suffering now. Is there no help in your great Christian creed Of liberal charity, for such a one ? &quot; &quot; My son,&quot; the priest replied, &quot; your speech distraught Hath quite bewildered me. I fain would hope