Thou Art The Sun Of Other Days.

Sweet Is The Infant's Waking Smile, And Sweet The Old Man's Rest-- But Middle Age By No Fond Wile, No Soothing Calm Is Blest.

Sun Of My Soul, Thou Savior Dear, It Is Not Night If Thou Be Near. Oh, May No Earthborn Cloud Arise To Hide Thee From Thy Servant's Eyes.

Once You Make Up Your Mind Never To Stand Waiting And Hesitating When Your Conscience Tells You What You Ought To Do, And You Have Got The Key To Every Blessing That A Sinner Can Reasonably Hope For.

Look In, And See Christ's Chosen Saint In Triumph Wear His Christ-like Chain; No Fear Lest He Should Swerve Or Faint; "his Life Is Christ, His Death Is Gain.

Time's Waters Will Not Ebb Nor Stay.