Every Moment Of Resistance To Temptation Is

Now This Spirit Is Admirably Mortified By The Exercise Of Patience. It Involves Also A Continual Practice Of The Presence Of God; For We May Be Come Upon At Any Moment For An Almost Heroic Display Of Good Temper. It Is A Short Road To Unselfishness; For Nothing Is Left To Self. All That Seems To Belong Most Intimately To Self, To Be Self's Private Property, Such As Time, Home, And Rest, Are Invaded By These Continual Trials Of Patience.

Now Are The Days, Of Humblest Prayer, When Consciences To God Lie Bare, And Mercy Most Delights To Spare. Oh Hearken When We Cry. Now Is The Season, Wisely Long, Of Sadder Thought And Graver Song, When Ailing Souls Grow Well And Strong. Oh Hearken When We Cry. The Feast Of Penance! Oh So Bright, With True Conversion's Heavenly Light, Like Sunrise After Stormy Night! Oh Hearken When We Cry. Oh Happy Time Of Blessed Tears, Of Surer Hopes, Of Chast'ning Fears, Undoing All Our Evil Years. Oh Hearken When We Cry. Chastise Us With Thy Fear; Yet, Father! In The Multitude Of Thy Compassions, Hear!

Eternity Will Not Be Long Enough To Learn All He Is, Or To Praise Him For All He Has Done, But Then, That Matters Not; For We Shall Be Always With Him, And We Desire Nothing More.

The Buried Talent Is The Sunken Rock On Which Most Lives Strike And Founder.

The Music Of The Gospel Leads Us Home.