O Love that wilt not let me go, I rest my weary soul in Thee : I give Thee back the life I owe, That in Thine ocean depths its flow May richer, fuller be.

We conquer by continuing.

My God, I have never thanked Thee for my 'thorn!' I have thanked Thee a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my 'thorn;' I have been looking forward to a world where I shall get compensation for my cross as itself a present glory. Teach me the glory of my cross; teach me the value of my 'thorn.' Show me that I have climbed to Thee by the path of pain. Show me that my tears have made my rainbow.

I will have reached the point of greatest strength once I have learned to wait for hope.

Christian love is the only kind of love in which there is no rivalry, no jealousy. There is jealousy among the lovers of art; there is jealousy among the lovers of song; there is jealousy among the lovers of beauty. The glory of natural love is its monopoly, its power to say, 'It is mine. ' But the glory of Christian love is its refusal of monopoly.

There is an Eye that never sleeps, Beneath the wind of night. There is an ear that never shuts, When sinks the beams of light. There is an Arm that never tires, When human strength gives way. There is a Love that never fails, When earthly loves decay.

O Love that wilt not let me go, I rest my weary soul in Thee : I give Thee back the life I owe, That in Thine ocean depths its flow May richer, fuller be.