Wherever people came upon her, they came first upon the sound of her voice.

The farmers heard it across the fields, and sometimes Israel heard it from over the hill by their hut.

Often she seemed to them like a bird that is hidden in a tree, and only known to be there by the outbursts of its song.
Fatimah's ditties were still her delight.

Some of them fell strangely from her pure lips, so nearly did they border on the dangerous.

But her favourite song was still her mother's:-- Oh, come and claim thine own, Oh, come and take thy throne, Reign ever and alone Reign glorious, golden Love.
Into these words, as her voice ripened, she seemed to pour a deeper fervour.