And true it is that in India the faith has not endured, but over the rest of Asia has it spread, strong and mighty.
But the women were glad at heart, for the homeless life drew them with the very passion of peace and many became great saints, some dwelling in forests and in caves, and great to them was the joy of peace in the solitudes far from crowds, and they were filled with the life of trees and great forests and the strength of the up-running sap and the speechless communion and growth of trees and plants. And in many joy broke forth in words and they made the Psalms of the Sisters, even as their brothers the monks also sang for joy and could no more be silent than birds at dawn, and the world they had known called to ears that heard no longer. And thus it called:
“Young art thou, sister, and faultless—what seekest thou in the holy life?
Cast off that yellow-hued raiment and come!”
And each replied in her own manner.
“I what was well to do have done, and what
Is to my heart delectable. Therein
Is my delight, and thus through happiness
Has happiness been sought after and won.”
Young and old they rejoiced, and the solitudes were kind to them, admitting them to fellowship. And one aged sister spoke this: