Sun Of My Soul, Thou Savior Dear,

Abide With Me From Morn To Eve, / For Without Thee I Cannot Live: / Abide With Me When Night Is Nigh. / For Without Thee I Dare Not Die.

If The Church Of England Were To Fail, It Would Be Found In My Parish

Love Masters Agony; The Soul That Seemed Forsaken Feels Her Present God Again And In Her Father's Arms Contented Dies Away.

Sweet Is The Smile Of Home; The Mutual Look When Hearts Are Of Each Other Sure.

Soft As Memnon's Harp At Morning, To The Inward Ear Devout, Touched By Light, With Heavenly Warning Your Transporting Chords Ring Out. Every Leaf In Every Nook, Every Wave In Every Brook, Chanting With A Solemn Voice Minds Us Of Our Better Choice.