When Words We Want, Love Teacheth To

The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Sun.

Lord, 'tis Thy Plenty-dropping Hand That Soils My Land, And Giv'st Me For My Bushel Sowne Twice Ten For One. All This, And Better, Thou Dost Send Me, To This End, That I Should Render, For My Part, A Thankful Heart.

Whatever Comes, Let's Be Content Withal: Among God's Blessings There Is No One Small.

In The Hour Of My Distress, When Temptations Me Oppress, And When I My Sins Confess, Sweet Spirit, Comfort Me.

Outdid The Meat, Outdid The Frolic Wine.