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if we do not reach that spirit realm, Where bodyless each soul
may ages whelm With joy unutterable; still we live, With bodies
knew upon dear Earth, and give Our newer life to children with
our blood.  Or if these blessings we should miss; in wood, Or
glen, or garden, field, or emerald seas, Our forms shall spring
again; in such as these We see around us throbbing with sweet
life, In trees or flowerets.  This needs no belief On which to
base the fabric of a dream, For Earth her children from death
doth redeem, And each contributes to continuous bloom; So go
your way! ye sisters, to your gloom!  Far on their road have
come the king of fame And seer, within the land of Mas[5] they
came, Nor knew that Fate was hovering o’er their way, In gentle
converse they have passed the day.  Some twenty kaspu o’er the
hills and plain, They a wild forest in the mountain gain, In a
deep gorge they rode through thickets wild, Beneath the pines;
now to a pass they