Читать книгу The Life of Florence Nightingale - Edward Tyas Cook - Страница 8

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I go to prove my soul!

I see my way as birds their trackless way.

I shall arrive—what time, what circuit first,

I ask not; but unless God send his hail

Or blinding fire-balls, sleet, or stifling snow,

In some time, his good time, I shall arrive:

He guides me and the bird. In his good time.

Browning: Paracelsus.