He That Hath No Cross Deserves No

The World's An Inn; And I Her Guest.

As There Is No Worldly Gain Without Some Loss, So There Is No Worldly Loss Without Some Gain; If Thou Hast Lost Thy Wealth, Thou Hast Lost Some Trouble With It; If Thou Art Degraded From Thy Honor, Thou Art Likewise Freed From The Stroke Of Envy; If Sickness Hath Blurred Thy Beauty, It Hath Delivered Thee From Pride. Set The Allowance Against The Loss, And Thou Shalt Find No Loss Great; He Loses Little Or Nothing, That Reserves Himself.

Prize Not Thyself By What Thou Hast, But By What Thou Art; He That Values A Jewel By Her Golden Frame, Or A Book By Her Silver Clasps, Or A Man By His Vast Estate, Errs; If Thou Art Not Worth More Than The World Can Make Thee, Thy Redeemer Had A Bad Pennyworth, Or Thou An Uncurious Redeemer.

Sin, When It Is Finished, Bringeth Forth Death.

Even As The Needle That Directs The Hour, (touched With The Loadstone) By The Secret Power Of Hidden Nature, Points Upon The Pole; Even So The Wavering Powers Of My Soul, Touch'd By The Virtue Of Thy Spirit, Flee From What Is Earth, And Point Alone To Thee.