Thy Pride Is But The

Heaven Finds An Ear When Sinners Find A Tongue.

Is Not This Lily Pure? What Fuller Can Procure A White So Perfect, Spotless Clear As In This Flower Doth Appear?

See, Here's A Shadow Found; The Human Nature Is Made Th' Umbrella To The Deity, To Catch The Sunbeams Of Thy Just Creator; Beneath This Covert Thou May'st Safely Lie.

Some Only Break Their Fast, And So Away: Others Stay To Dinner, And Depart Full Fed: The Deepest Age But Sups, And Goes To Bed: He's Most In Debt That Lingers Out The Day: Who Dies Betime, Has Less, And Less To Pay.

Let Grace Conduct Thee To The Paths Of Peace.