A Fool Must Now And Then Be

Misery Still Delights To Trace Its Semblance In Another's Case.

Judge Not The Lord By Feeble Sense, But Trust Him For His Grace; Behind A Frowning Providence He Hides A Smiling Face. His Purposes Will Ripen Fast, Unfolding Every Hour;the Bud May Have A Bitter Taste, But Sweet Will Be The Flow’r. Blind Unbelief Is Sure To Err And Scan His Work In Vain; God Is His Own Interpreter, And He Will Make It Plain.

Is Base In Kind, And Born To Be A Slave.

Lights Of The World, And Stars Of Human Race.

This Cabin, Mary, In My Sight Appears, Built As It Has Been In Our Waning Years, A Rest Afforded To Our Weary Feet, Preliminary To - The Last Retreat.