Yet My Great-grandfather Was But A Water-man,

There Was A Castle Called Doubting Castle, The Owner Whereof Was Giant Despair.

There Is Enough Sin In My Best Prayer To Send The Whole World To Hell.

Prayer Is A Sincere, Sensible, Affectionate Pouring Out Of The Soul To God, Through Christ, In The Strength And Assistance Of The Spirit, For Such Things As God Has Promised.

Men, Even The Elect, Have Too Many Infirmities To Come To Christ Without Help From Heaven; Inviting Will Not Do.

He That Comes To Christ Cannot, It Is True, Always Get On As Fast As He Would. Poor Coming Soul, Thou Art Like The Man That Would Ride Full Gallop Whose Horse Will Hardly Trot. Now The Desire Of His Mind Is Not To Be Judged Of By The Slow Pace Of The Dull Jade He Rides On, But By The Hitching And Kicking And Spurring As He Sits On His Back. Thy Flesh Is Like This Dull Jade, It Will Not Gallop After Christ, It Will Be Backward Though Thy Soul And Heaven Lie At Stake.