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- Луиза Мэй Олкотт
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- Стр. 442/451
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Oh
,
when
these
hidden
stores
of
ours
Lie
open
to
the
Father
’
s
sight
,
May
they
be
rich
in
golden
hours
,
Deeds
that
show
fairer
for
the
light
,
Lives
whose
brave
music
long
shall
ring
,
Like
a
spirit
-
stirring
strain
,
Souls
that
shall
gladly
soar
and
sing
In
the
long
sunshine
after
rain
.
"
It
’
s
very
bad
poetry
,
but
I
felt
it
when
I
wrote
it
,
one
day
when
I
was
very
lonely
,
and
had
a
good
cry
on
a
rag
bag
.
I
never
thought
it
would
go
where
it
could
tell
tales
,
"
said
Jo
,
tearing
up
the
verses
the
Professor
had
treasured
so
long
.
"
Let
it
go
,
it
has
done
its
duty
,
and
I
will
haf
a
fresh
one
when
I
read
all
the
brown
book
in
which
she
keeps
her
little
secrets
,
"
said
Mr
.
Bhaer
with
a
smile
as
he
watched
the
fragments
fly
away
on
the
wind
.
"
Yes
,
"
he
added
earnestly
,
"
I
read
that
,
and
I
think
to
myself
,
She
has
a
sorrow
,
she
is
lonely
,
she
would
find
comfort
in
true
love
.
I
haf
a
heart
full
,
full
for
her
.
