There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.

The kindest and the happiest pair Will find occasion to forbear; And something, every day they live, To pity, and perhaps forgive.

A self-made man? Yes, and one who worships his creator.

'Tis liberty alone that gives the flower Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume; And we are weeds without it.

Trials make the promise sweet, Trials give new life to prayer; Trials bring me to His feet, Lay me low, and keep me there.

Built God a church and laughed His word to scorn.

How happy it is to believe, with a steadfast assurance, that our petitions are heard even while we are making them; and how delightful to meet with a proof of it in the effectual and actual grant of them.