The carriage finally arrives at its destination. Our main character talks to a villigian of the region.
From the deepest valleys to the highest mountain peaks which the sun caress with care. Carpathia! All hail to thee! Thy beauty is beyond compare...
When the soft white shrouds of morning dew lay down on the meadows green, Thy prais is due, but keep thy poetry for the night you haven't seen!
For when the sun doth set in Carpathia... And the worm that gnaws the grave, crawls hence forth from gulf and cave And when the moon doth rise in Carpathia... Then the creature leaves the lair and the ghost is on the stair
For there is no such beauty in the morning light Nor in the later hours of day As when darkness fell in the deep pine woods And the wolves go hunt their prey!
Ah, you should hear the sweet sullen song Of the nightbirds call to the moon! And the glorious howling sound of the wind In the wastes and all places marooned...