Which, though hidden, drank her eye-light’s brightness.
In vain she seeks to shrive herself in her sister’s church. A mysterious voice arrests her at the portal, and warns her from the spot, ‘for this church can neither heal nor save thee.’ In her agony she implores her husband to bind her too ‘to the wild steeds’ tails, and drive them—drive them to th’ immeasurable desert!’ Paul listens to her entreaties, and binding her to the wild steeds’ tails, ‘drove them forth across the mighty desert.’ But—
Wheresoe’er a drop of blood fell from her,
There sprang up the rankest thorns and nettles;
Where her body fell, when dead, the waters
Rushed and formed a lake both still and stagnant.
O’er the lake there swam a small black courser:
By his side a golden cradle floated:
On the cradle sat a young grey falcon: