Give Us Grace To Listen Well.

Sun Of My Soul! Thou Saviour Dear, It Is Not Night If Thou Be Near.

Sweet Is The Smile Of Home; The Mutual Look When Hearts Are Of Each Other Sure.

The Deeds We Do, The Words We Say,into Still Air They Seem To Fleet;we Count Them Ever Past;but They Shall Last -in The Dread Judgment Theyand We Shall Meet.

Time's Waters Will Not Ebb Nor Stay.

When The Shore Is Won At Last, Who Will Count The Billow Past?