Читать книгу The Bent Twig - Dorothy Canfield Fisher - Страница 5

XL A CALL FROM HOME

XLI HOME AGAIN

XLII "Strange that we creatures of the petty ways, Poor prisoners behind these fleshly bars, Can sometimes think us thoughts with God ablaze, Touching the fringes of the outer stars" XLIII "Call now; is there any that will answer thee?" XLIV "A bruised reed will He not break, and a dimly burning wick will He not quench" XLV "That our soul may swim We sink our heart down, bubbling, under wave" XLVI A LONG TALK WITH ARNOLD XLVII " … AND ALL THE TRUMPETS SOUNDED!"