Every one of his opinions appears to himself to be written with sunbeams.

Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small: Love so amazing, so divine Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Abandon the secret chamber and the spiritual life will decay.

Birds in their little nests agree; And 'tis a shameful sight When children of one family Fall out, and chide, and fight.

There's not a plant or flower below but makes Thy glories known, And clouds arise, and tempests blow by order from Thy throne; While all that borrows life from Thee is ever in Thy care; And everywhere that we can be, Thou, God art present there.

Roses grow on thorns and honey wears a sting.

Dear Lord. I give myself away. I've nothing else to give.