A small black-clad figure bearing a lantern imprinted with the sign of an owl comes before the altar and composes herself, remembering another altar, another age.

In a worn soft voice, she begins to sing an old hymn to Sophia [click here to listen], faltering a little over notes learned and last sung over a decade ago.

Sophias philai paromen. Philokaloumen met eute laiar Philosophoumen. Aneu malakias, plouto ergou Kairo crometha Athlon ariston, Kai kindunon tonde. Kallist on nomizomen. Enthoumometha orthos hosa praxomen orthos. Kalon to athlon kai elpis megale, Elpis megale Kalon to athlon kai Elpis megale, elpis megale, Nai megale.

Friends of wisdom, let us gather. We love beauty with simplicity. We love wisdom without softness. We use our talent to accomplish deeds. This is the finest achievement, And this is the venture we consider noble. We have proper pride In what we have achieved. The achievement is worthy, And our hope is great, yea great. Hope is great, yea, great.

[Bryn Mawr College hymn to Athena]

The bard bows to the Unseen, raises her lantern and back away, disappearing whence she came.