What the sunshine is to the flower, the Lord Jesus Christ is to my soul.
I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my dusky race.
Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.
God's finger touched him, and he slept.
The dream Dreamed by a happy man, when the dark East, Unseen, is brightening to his bridal morn.