your life springs from a deeper source. Answer me, priestess, where
go the fire-spirits when winter seizes the world?"

"Into the Fire-King they go, they dream in his heart." She half
chanted, the passion of her speech not yet fallen away from her.
"And where go the fires of men when they despair"? She was silent;
then he continued half in scorn, "Your priestess is the priestess
of ghouls and fays rather than a priestess of men; her wisdom is
not for you; the spirits that haunt the elements are hostile because
they see you full of fear; do not dread them and their hatred will
vanish. The great heart of the earth is full of laughter; do not
put yourselves apart from its joy, for its soul is your soul and
its joy is your true being."

He turned and passed through the crowd; the priestess made a motion
as if she would have stayed him, then she drew herself up proudly
and refrained. They heard his voice again singing as he passed into
the darkening woods,

"The spirits to the fire-king throng
Each in the winter of his day:
And all who listen to their song
Follow them after in that way.

They seek the heart-hold of the king,
They build within his halls of fire,
Their dreams flash like the peacock's wing,
They glow with sun-hues of desire.

I follow in no faery ways;