In a blushing wild-rose braid.
“Saw a distant sheet of water
Flashing like a fallen sun;
Saw the winking of the ripples
Where the mountain torrents run.
“Saw the peaceful arch of heaven,
With a cloudlet on the blue,
Like a white bird winging homeward
With its feathers drenched in dew.”
Then Dara tried to lift up her heart to God in thanksgiving; but her attention was distracted,—now it was a bird, then a flower, then a change in the light,—and she could not fix her mind on God. Then a sadness came upon her, and she cried—