Through all your longings till it leads your own
To crowned and still content?
Ara. Will you not go?
Aris. And when thy gaze is on the sibyl sea,
Striving to read her ancient wave-writ script,
And break the seal a differing language sets
Upon her mighty tongue, whence cometh peace
Like full and silent answer to your heart?
Ara. If this be love, then let it be mine still.
For it may be without a touch of hands.