Judas Maccabaeus by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

SCENE III. -- JASON, alone.

JASON. / Through the Gate Beautiful I see them come / With branches and green boughs and leaves of palm, / And pass into the inner courts. Alas! / I should be with them, should be one of them, / But in an evil hour, an hour of weakness, / That cometh unto all, I fell away / From the old faith, and did not clutch the new, / Only an outward semblance of belief; / For the new faith I cannot make mine own, / Not being born to it. It hath no root / Within me. I am neither Jew nor Greek, / But stand between them both, a renegade / To each in turn; having no longer faith / In gods or men. Then what mysterious charm, / What fascination is it chains my feet, / And keeps me gazing like a curious child / Into the holy places, where the priests / Have raised their altar? -- Striking stones together, / They take fire out of them, and light the lamps / In the great candlestick. They spread the veils, / And set the loaves of showbread on the table. / The incense burns; the well-remembered odor / Comes wafted unto me, and takes me back / To other days. I see myself among them / As I was then; and the old superstition / Creeps over me again! -- A childish fancy! -- / And hark! they sing with citherns and with cymbals, / And all the people fall upon their faces, / Praying and worshipping! -- I will away / Into the East, to meet Antiochus / Upon his homeward journey, crowned with triumph. / Alas! to-day I would give everything / To see a friend's face, or to hear a voice / That had the slightest tone of comfort in it!