Glory, built on selfish principles, is shame and guilt.
Satan trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon their knees.
Trials make the promise sweet, Trials give new life to prayer; Trials bring me to His feet, Lay me low, and keep me there.
Perhaps thou gav'st me, though unseen, a kiss; Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss.
A fool must now and then be right, by chance
O, popular applause! what heart of man is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms?