Page:The Russian Review Volume 1.djvu/178

154 Then Father Olympy paused, turned around, and, opening wide his large, angry eyes, said sternly and heavily:

"Well?"

For the first time his wife became timidly silent. She turned away from her husband, covered her face with a handkerchief, and burst into tears.

And he walked on, immense, dark, and majestic, like a monument. 



 

In life's dark moments when with care And grief my heart is sore, The accents of a wondrous prayer I whisper o'er and o'er.

They bring a blessing with each tone, Those living words of light, And breathe a charm before unknown, A holy, calm delight.

The burdens of my doubts and fears Far from my spirit go; My faith, my penitential tears, How easy, easy flow!