The Birth Of The War-God (Canto Fifth ) - Uma's Reward Comments

She threw her arms around her own dear maid, Kissed, fondly kissed her, sighed, and wept, and prayed: 'Are there no Gods, my child, to love thee here? Frail is thy body, yet thy vow severe. The lily, by the wild bee scarcely stirred, Bends, breaks, and dies beneath the weary bird.' Fast fell her tears, her prayer was strong, but still That prayer was weaker than her daughter's will. Who can recall the torrent's headlong force, Or the bold spirit in its destined course? She sent a maiden to her sire, and prayed He for her sake would grant some bosky shade, That she might dwell in solitude, and there Give all her soul to penance and to prayer. Simply beautiful, full of divine ecstasy.