Page:Three Plays Sunderland Hills.pdf/177

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So there are priests yet, servants of what Gods? Is this a priestess this so rainbow-hued, Like some bright Eastern bird?

No Lady, no! Incense I burn no more to any Gods, Mine own forsook me, and the new are strange, But you, O mistress, I would choose to serve Likest a lady on a lotus set Out Goddess of all Beauty and all Love Who smil'd on me 'neath favourabler skys. And I believe you come from far away From some more happy to this sadder star!

To me as unto you their Gods are strange, For, in the temples I was us'd to know, Inscrutable and immemorial,