That now, at last, no duty disallowing,
Her loosened soul out through the sunset bars
Might float, and catch heaven's crystal shimmer. But scarce
Had meditation smoothed the wing of thought
Before the hangings of the door were parted
With yet a further summoning. From a Triton
That spouted in the court her three-year boy,
Who thither had climbed, had fallen, and naught would soothe
The bruised brow save the sweet mother-kiss.
"I come," she said, her forehead half divine