Is your love for the Lord sufficient to give all your time and talents to his work?
Strike when thou wilt, the hour of rest, but let my last days be my best.
Why comes temptation but for man to meet And master and make crouch beneath his foot, And so be pedestaled in triumph?
The sad rhyme of the men who proudly clung To their first fault, and withered in their pride.
Day! Faster and more fast. O'er night's brim, day boils at last.
'Tis only when they spring to Heaven that angels reveal themselves to you.