I myself do nothing. The Holy Spirit accomplishes all through me.

Every thing possible to be believ'd is an image of truth.

Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: "Pipe a song about a Lamb." So I piped with merry cheer; "Piper, pipe that song again." So I piped; he wept to hear.

The Angel that presided o'er my birth Said, 'Little creature, formed of joy and mirth, Go love without the help of any thing on earth'.

thus men forgot that all deities reside in the human breast.

But to go to school in a summer morn, O! It drives all joy away; Under a cruel eye outworn, The little ones spend the day In sighing and dismay.

The lamb misused breeds public strife And yet forgives the butcher's knife.