"As now the gods could not find their friend Iduna, they were confused
with grief; indeed, they began visibly to grow old and gray. Discords
arose, and love grew cold. Indeed, Odur, spouse of the goddess of love
and beauty, wandered away, and returned no more. At last, however, the
gods, discovering the treachery of Loke, obliged him to win back Iduna
from the prison in which she sat mourning. He changed himself into a
falcon, and brought her back as a swallow, fiercely pursued by the
Giant King, in the form of an eagle. So she strives to return among
us, light and small as a swallow. We must welcome her form as the
speck on the sky that assures the glad blue of Summer. Yet one swallow
does not make a summer. Let us solicit them in flights and flocks!"
* * * * *
Returning from the future to the present, let us see what forms Iduna
takes, as she moves along the declivity of centuries to the valley
where the lily flower may concentrate all its fragrance.
It would seem as if this time were not very near to one fresh from
books, such as I have of late been--no: _not_ reading, but
sighing over. A crowd of books having been sent me since my friends
knew me to be engaged in this way, on Woman's "Sphere,", Woman's
"Mission," and Woman's "Destiny," I believe that almost all that is
extant of formal precept has come under my eye.
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