How Strange A Checker-work Of Providence Is

And Of All Plagues With Which Mankind Are Curst, Ecclesiastic Tyranny's The Worst.

Call Upon Me In The Day Of Trouble, And I Will Deliver, And Thou Shalt Glorify Me...wait On The Lord, And Be Of Good Cheer, And He Shall Strengthen Thy Heart; Wait, I Say, On The Lord:' It Is Impossible To Express The Comfort This Gave Me. In Answer, I Thankfully Laid Down The Book, And Was No More Sad, At Least, Not On That Occasion.

It Is Never Too Late To Be Wise.

Great Families Of Yesterday We Show, And Lords, Whose Parents Were The Lord Knows Who.

I Smil'd To My Self At The Sight Of This Money, O Drug! Said I Aloud, What Art Thou Good For? Thou Art Not Worth To Me, No Not The Taking Off Of The Ground, One Of Those Knives Is Worth All This Heap, I Have No Manner Of Use For Thee, E'en Remain Where Thou Art, And Go To The Bottom As A Creature Whose Life Is Not Worth Saving. However, Upon Second Thoughts, I Took It Away.