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Let us arise and go, for the old gods are singing,
The beautiful cruel gods that mock our miseries.
The beautiful cruel gods that mock our miseries.
Ian. What voice is this? The men of peace are out.
May God protect us!
May God protect us!
Calum. Ian make an end.
Though all the beaten fairies of the air
Rise against heaven, we can cast them down,
But it were better save them with a kiss.
[Raising his voice.
Whoe’er you be that sing to us this morn,
Whether your dwelling be below the hills
Or in the mazy fastness of the air,
Draw near in peace. For I have learned too well
The lesson of Christ’s love, to hate the sad
Discrownèd gods that are His enemies.
Though all the beaten fairies of the air
Rise against heaven, we can cast them down,
But it were better save them with a kiss.
[Raising his voice.
Whoe’er you be that sing to us this morn,
Whether your dwelling be below the hills
Or in the mazy fastness of the air,
Draw near in peace. For I have learned too well
The lesson of Christ’s love, to hate the sad
Discrownèd gods that are His enemies.
Alastair comes in.
Alastair. Christ’s love? Then even here men pray to Christ,
The pitiful intruder; even here
In Western Morven of the windy rocks,
Where once the old gods would be wandering
Along the outer fringes of the world,
Alastair. Christ’s love? Then even here men pray to Christ,
The pitiful intruder; even here
In Western Morven of the windy rocks,
Where once the old gods would be wandering
Along the outer fringes of the world,
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