But, behold! my fate is barren, and I feel already that it will grow neither fruit nor tree as a shelter to mine old age.

Desolate and lonely shall I pass unto my grave.

O Orna! my beautiful! my loved! none were like unto thee, and to thy love do I owe my glory and my life! Would for thy sake, O sweet bird! that nestled in the dark cavern of my heart,--would for thy sake that thy brethren had been spared, for verily with my life would I have purchased thine.

Alas! only when I lost thee did I find that thy love was dearer to me than the fear of others!" And Morven mourned night and day, and none might comfort him.
But from that time forth he gave himself solely up to the cares of his calling; and his nature and his affections, and whatever there was yet left soft in him, grew hard like stone; and he was a man without love, and he forbade love and marriage to the priest.
Now, in his latter years, there arose _other_ prophets; for the world had grown wiser even by Morven's wisdom, and some did say unto themselves, "Behold Morven, the herdsman's son, is a king of kings: this did the stars for their servant; shall we not also be servants to the star ?" And they wore black garments like Morven, and went about prophesying of what the stars foretold them.

And Morven was exceeding wroth; for he, more than other men, knew that the prophets lied.