And Help Us, This And

Blest Are The Pure In Heart, For They Shall See Our God. The Secret Of The Lord Is Theirs; Their Soul Is Christ's Abode.

Sun Of My Soul, Thou Savior Dear, It Is Not Night If Thou Be Near. Oh, May No Earthborn Cloud Arise To Hide Thee From Thy Servant's Eyes.

The Trivial Round, The Common Task,would Furnish All We Ought To Ask.

Pride Of The Dewy Morning, The Swain's Experienced Eye From Thee Takes Timely Warning. Nor Trusts The Gorgeous Sky.

Sweet Is The Infant's Waking Smile, And Sweet The Old Man's Rest-- But Middle Age By No Fond Wile, No Soothing Calm Is Blest.