20
Mine is the clang
’ Of the olden door.
Half the secret
I gave : no more !
Half the secret
Hidden I keep.
Hide it deep !
That is mine !
I will work.
He is nought.
The runes divine
Awry be wrought.
Hail to the murk !
[4 distant whine is heard.]
Cover me! Lurk,
Rupha, lurk !
"Tis a foe.
Ho! Ho!
[Clouds have been obscuring the moon; tt is now
dark. A fox passes over the stage.]
Crafty ! Crafty !
That is the omen.
Fear not the foemen !
[She rises up.]
Mine is the spoil
Of the grimly toil.
Gloomy, gloomy !
Ah ! but I laugh.