But When He Has Done

Gratitude, In Itself, Is Heaven.

The Glory Of Christianity Is To Conquer By Forgiveness.

Struggling In My Father's Hands, Striving Against My Swaddling Bands, Bound And Weary, I Thought Best To Sulk Upon My Mother's Breast.

The Stars Are Threshed, And The Souls Are Threshed From Their Husks.

To Chloe's Breast Young Cupid Slily Stole, But He Crept In At Myra's Pocket-hole.