The Streams Of Religion Run

God Warns Before He Wounds.

The Anger Of A Meek Man Is Like Fire Struck Out Of Steel, Hard To Be Got Out, And When It Is, Soon Gone.

Come, And See The Victories Of The Cross. Christ's Wounds Are Thy Healings, His Agonies Thy Repose, His Conflicts Thy Conquests, His Groans Thy Songs, His Pains Thine Ease, His Shame Thy Glory, His Death Thy Life, His Sufferings Thy Salvation.

He Rolls It Under His Tongue As A Sweet Morsel.

Love Is The Root; Obedience Is The Fruit.