Page:Three Plays Sunderland Hills.pdf/181

Rh

Aye! He is of those who fear, too much, the sun, The gold great sun who all our lives should light, Too much you minister to the maddening moon, Mother of all Thessalian Sorcery, Strange spells and enigmatic oracles, Come forth into the sunlight from the dusk, And find how fair are flowers of the earth!

( smiling, joins hands of and )

(To ):

Lady, or Goddess, for you seem to me Fairer than mortal, come from very far, Those glens and glades where Mænads dance and dwell You told us lately of. Are those your home? 'Ere you shall pass as strangely as you came,