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And close to this thatched roof while I am far: Now of more wandering it has no need. But I must haste back to my father's house Which soon will lose one loved accustomed tread And listen in vain for a once cherished voice. For soon I shall return nor ever again Oneness must sever its recovered bliss Or fate sunder our lives while life is ours." Once more she mounted on the carven car And under the ardour of a fiery noon Less bright than the splendour of her thoughts and dreams She sped swift-reined, swift-hearted but still saw In still lucidities of sight's inner world Through the cool-scented wood's luxurious gloom On shadowy paths between great rugged trunks Pace towards a tranquil clearing Satyavan. A nave of trees enshrined the hermit thatch, The new deep covert of her felicity, Preferred to heaven her soul's temple and home. This now remained with her, her heart's constant scene. End of Canto Three End of Book Five 
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