Then a faint glow stealing up, lights the snowy head of THEGREAT HORN, and streams forth on SEELCHEN. To either aide of that path of light, like shadows. THE COW HORN and THE WINEHORN stand with cloaked heads.
SEELCHEN. Great One! I come!
The Peak of THE GREAT HORN speaks in a far-away voice, growing, with the light, clearer and stronger.
Wandering flame, thou restless fever Burning all things, regretting none;The winds of fate are stilled for ever--
Thy little generous life is done.
And all its wistful wonderings cease!
Thou traveller to the tideless sea, Where light and dark, and change and peace, Are One--Come, little soul, to MYSTERY!
SEELCHEN falling on her knees, bows her head to the ground. The glow slowly fades till the scene is black.
