Earth Is Embittered To Us, That Heaven

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.

Riches, In The Hands Of A Man That Is Wise And Generous, Are Good For Something, But In The Hands Of A Sordid, Sneaking, Covetous Miser, They Are Good For Nothing.

We Have A Cunning Adversary, Who Watches To Do Mischief, And Will Promote Errors, Even By The Words Of Scripture.

Those That Go Gold Into The Furnace Will Come Out No Worse.

They That Die By Famine Die By Inches.