For Satan always finds some mischief still for idle hands to do.
The child taught to believe any occurrence a good or evil omen, or any day of the week lucky, hath a wide inroad made upon the soundness of his understanding.
In books, or work, or healthful play.
Roses grow on thorns and honey wears a sting.
When I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies, I'll bid farewell to every fear, And wipe my weeping eyes.
Forbid it Lord that I should boast, save in the death of Christ, my God: All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to his blood.