She cherished in her bosom
The will of the god, and resumed the task
Assigned to her at the start of vague time,—
To pour heaven’s streams upon providence
And make lands green, smiling with wealth of corn,
And to give fruits to trees, and songs to birds,
And fragrance of spiritual delight
To breeze, as though prosperity took wings
Of amazement. Day after day, and birth
After birth, free and heroic, her soul
Ran even through sad but meaningful realms
Of almighty death. There flourished her joys.
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