As it is, I hold my peace." "Mystery of mysteries!" cried the blind old pilgrim; "is it, then, a stone image that Pani calls a tree?
Oh, Oro, that I had eyes to see, that I might verily behold it, and then believe it to be what it is not; that so I might prove the largeness of my faith; and so merit the blessing of Alma." "Thrice sacred Ananna," murmured the sad-eyed maiden, falling upon her knees before Doleema, "receive my adoration.

Of thee, I know nothing, but what the guide has spoken.

I am but a poor, weak-minded maiden, judging not for myself, but leaning upon others that are wiser.

These things are above me.

I am afraid to think.