And she thought they peered from out a world beneath the waters’ flow.
Then a blush of richest crimson mounted up unto her cheek,
And a smile enwreathed her parted lips, as if she fain would speak;
But yet while she looked still steadfastly, the face below it smiled,
And Theodora clasped her hands, with seeming transport wild.
Every day thereafter went she, as a nun within her cell,
To the little crystal cloister there imbedded in the dell:
And as every time she looked within, she saw an angel-face—
Upon each reflected feature read the words of truth and grace.