Varda, too great is her beauty to be declared in the words of Men or of Elves; for the light of Ilúvatar lives still in her face. In light is her power and her joy.
Vána, all flowers spring as she passes and open if she glances upon them; and all birds sing at her coming.
Yavanna, she is the lover of all things that grow in the earth, and all their countless forms she holds in her mind, from the trees like towers in forests long ago to the moss upon stones or the small and secret things in the mould.
Ëste, healer of hurts and of weariness. She walks not by day, but sleeps upon an island in the tree-shadowed lake of Lórellin.