Ever Let The Fancy Roam, Pleasure Never

The Cross! There, And There Only (though The Deist Rave, And The Atheist, If Earth Bears So Base A Slave); There And There Only, Is The Power To Save.

Judge Not The Lord By Feeble Sense, But Trust Him For His Grace; Behind A Frowning Providence He Hides A Smiling Face.

Where Thou Art Gone, Adieus And Farewells Are A Sound Unknown.

The Things That Mount The Rostrum With A Skip, And Then Skip Down Again, Pronounce A Text, Cry Hem; And Reading What They Never Wrote Just Fifteen Minutes, Huddle Up Their Work, And With A Well-bred Whisper Close The Scene!

When From Soft Love Proceeds The Deep Distress, Ah! Why Forbid The Willing Tears To Flow?