the crucifix.
And my invisible brethren fill the house;
I hear their footsteps going up and down.
O, they shall soon rule all the hearts of men
And own all lands; last night they merrily danced
About his chapel belfrey! (_To_ MAIRE.) Come away,
I hear my brethren bidding us away!

FATHER HART.

I will go fetch the crucifix again.

[_They hang about him in terror and prevent him from moving._

BRIDGET BRUIN.

The enchanted flowers will kill us if you go.

MAURTEEN BRUIN.

They turn the flowers to little twisted flames.

SHAWN BRUIN.

The little twisted flames burn up the heart.

THE CHILD.

I hear them call us, newly-married bride.

MAIRE BRUIN.

I will go with you.

FATHER HART.

She is lost, alas,

THE CHILD (_standing by the door_).

Then, follow but the heavy body of clay,
And clinging mortal hope must fall from you;
For we who ride the winds, run on the waves,
And dance upon the mountains, are more light
Than dewdrops on the banners of the dawn.

MAIRE BRUIN.

Then take my soul.

[SHAWN BRUIN _goes over to her._

SHAWN BRUIN.

Beloved, do not leave me!
What will my life be if you go with her?
Remember when I met you by the well
And took your hand in mine and spoke of love.

MAIRE BRUIN.

Dear face! Dear voice!

THE CHILD.

Come, newly-married bride!

MAIRE BRUIN.

I always loved her world--and yet--and yet
I think that I would stay if I could stay.

[_Sinks into his arms.

THE CHILD (_from the door_).

White bird, white bird, come with me, little bird!

MAIRE BRUIN.

She calls my soul!

THE CHILD.

Come with me, little bird!

MAIRE BRUIN.

I can hear songs and dancing!

SHAWN BRUIN.

Stay with me!

MAIRE BRUIN.

Dear, I would stay--and yet and yet--

THE CHILD.

White bird!
Come, little bird with crest of gold!

MAIRE BRUIN (_very softly_).

And yet--

THE CHILD.

Come, little bird with silver feet!

SHAWN BRUIN.

Dead, dead!

FATHER HART.

Thus do the evil spirits snatch their prey
Almost out of the very hand of God;
And day by day their power is more and more,
And men and women leave old paths, for pride
Comes knocking with thin knuckles on the heart.

A VOICE _sings outside_--

The wind blows out of the gates of the day,
The wind blows over the lonely of heart,
And the lonely of heart is withered away,
While the faeries dance in a place apart,
Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring,