The Buried Talent Is The

Small Things Are Best: Grief And Unrest To Rank And Wealth Are Given; But Little Things On Little Wings Bear Little Souls To Heaven.

There Is A Great Deal Of Self-will In The World, But Very Little Genuine Independence Of Character.

O Majesty Unspeakable And Dread!wert Thou Less Mighty Than Thou Art,thou Wert, O Lord, Too Great For Our Belief,too Little For Our Heart.

There's A Wideness In God's Mercy Like The Wideness Of The Sea Oratory Hymns.

Now Are The Days, Of Humblest Prayer, When Consciences To God Lie Bare, And Mercy Most Delights To Spare. Oh Hearken When We Cry. Now Is The Season, Wisely Long, Of Sadder Thought And Graver Song, When Ailing Souls Grow Well And Strong. Oh Hearken When We Cry. The Feast Of Penance! Oh So Bright, With True Conversion's Heavenly Light, Like Sunrise After Stormy Night! Oh Hearken When We Cry. Oh Happy Time Of Blessed Tears, Of Surer Hopes, Of Chast'ning Fears, Undoing All Our Evil Years. Oh Hearken When We Cry. Chastise Us With Thy Fear; Yet, Father! In The Multitude Of Thy Compassions, Hear!