BRIDGET BRUIN You know well How calling the good people by that name Or talking of them over much at all May bring all kinds of evil on the house. MARIE BRUIN Come, faeries, take me out of this dull house! Let me have all the freedom I have lost; Work when I will and idle when I will! Faeries, come take me out of this dull world, For I would ride with you upon the wind, Run on the top of the dishevelled tide, And dance upon the mountains like a flame! FATHER HART You cannot know the meaning of your words. MARIE BRUIN Father, I am right weary of four tongues: A tongue that is too crafty and too wise, A tongue that is too godly and too grave, A tongue that is more bitter than the tide, And a kind tongue too full of drowsy love, Of drowsy love and my captivity. (SHAWN BRUIN _comes over to her and leads her to the settle._) SHAWN BRUIN Do not blame me: I often lie awake Thinking that all things trouble your bright head-- How beautiful it is--such broad pale brows Under a cloudy blossoming of hair! Sit down beside me here--these are too old, And have forgotten they were ever young. MARIE BRUIN Oh, you are the great door-post of this house, And I, the red nasturtium, climbing up. (_She takes_ SHAWN'S _hand, but looks shyly at the priest and lets it go._) FATHER HART Good daughter, take his hand--by love alone God binds us to Himself and to the hearth And shuts us from the waste beyond His peace, From maddening freedom and bewildering light. SHAWN BRUIN Would that the world were mine to give it you With every quiet hearth and barren waste, The maddening freedom of its woods and tides, And the bewildering light upon its hills. MARIE BRUIN Then I would take and break it in my hands To see you smile watching it crumble away. SHAWN BRUIN Then I would mould a world of fire and dew With no one bitter, grave, or over wise, And nothing marred or old to do you wrong, And crowd the enraptured quiet of the sky With candles burning to your lonely face. MARIE BRUIN Your looks are all the candles that I need. SHAWN BRUIN Once a fly dancing in a beam of the sun, Or the light wind blowing out of the dawn, Could fill your heart with dreams none other knew, But now the indissoluble sacrament Has mixed your heart that was most proud and cold With my warm heart forever; and sun and moon Must fade and heaven be rolled up like a scroll; But your white spirit still walk by my spirit. (_A_ VOICE _sings in the distance._)