I Live No More, But

I Pray God That I May Never Find My Will Again. Oh, That Christ Would Subject My Will To His, And Trample It Under His Feet.

The Great Master Gardener, The Father Of Our Lord Jesus Christ, In A Wonderful Providence, With His Own Hand, Planted Me Here, Where By His Grace, In This Part Of His Vineyard, I Grow; And Here I Will Abide Till The Great Master Of The Vineyard Think Fit To Transplant Me.

He Who Duly Esteemeth Christ, Is A Noble Bidder, And So A Noble And Liberal Buyer.

I Live No More, But Christ Liveth In Me!

I Find My Lord Jesus Cometh Not In The Precise Way That I Lay Wait For Him. He Hath A Manner Of His Own. Oh, How High Are His Ways Above My Ways