436 The Tree (The Soul to Itself) Ah, little soul! Thou art like a young tree springing, God, Himself, planted thee, nursed thee into bloom; Burst into beauty now, rapturously flinging All thy...
|
July 6, x932 THE COM both cases there was a dwindling of spiritual content simultaneous with technical progress, no artistic age is without beauty. Nothing is more exasperating than the study of...
|