THOUGHTS FROM WRITINGS 



MY soul cannot reach to its full 

 desire of prayer. I need no 

 earth, or sea, or sun to think 

 my thought. If my thought-part— the 

 psyche — were entirely separated from 

 the body, and from the earth, I should 

 of myself desire the same. In itself my 

 soul desires; my existence, my soul- 

 existence is in itself my prayer, and so 

 long as it exists so long will it pray 

 that I may have the fullest soul-life. — 

 'The Story of my Heart' 



THOUGH not often consciously 

 recognised, perhaps this is 

 the great pleasure of summer, 

 to watch the earth, the dead particles, 

 revolving themselves into the living 

 case of life, to see the seed-leaf push 

 aside the clod and become by degrees 

 the perfumed flower. From the tiny 

 mottled egg come the wings that by- 

 and-by shall pass the immense sea. It 



50 



