Chapter VIII: Tacita. Alwyn. Ornis. Stark. (shy. Quercus.)

ALWYN

Now, Tacita, shy pagan nymph, appear!

[TACITA _enters from her shrine of greenery, and pauses before them_.]

Spirit, unblind this man! Delusions blur
Inward his sight. He is a murderer,
Yet knows not he is such. Unseal
The fountains of his vision, and reveal
Yonder the sister spirit, whom so long
His blind heart strove to wrong—
Ornis: Reveal, and let him speak with her!

[_Soft music sounds, various and elusive in its rhythmic themes_.
TACITA _approaches_ STARK, _and weaves about him a dance of
revelation, lulling, charming, luring him by the appeal of
numberless wing-swayings and bird-dartings, for which the music
suggests the song-notes. During her dance_, STARK _rises,
bewildered, and is gradually lured and led by her toward_ ORNIS,
_before whom—at the consummation of the dance—he stands, staring_.]

STARK

[_Rising, speaks to the music._]

O twilight—holy dusk—dawn twitterings!
How far, how dim and hollow
You darkle over me:
Wings, wings! swift wings, shy wings, eternal wings!
Where shall I follow?
Ah, joy—jubilant melody—
And morning! Joy—I follow!
I dream, and drink from your immortal springs!

[TACITA _disappears_. STARK _beholds_ ORNIS.]