You Cannot Expect Stone To Be As

There's Nothing Like Active Employment, I Suppose, To Console The Afflicted.

You Might As Well Sell Yourself To Slavery At Once, As Marry Man You Dislike.

Yet, Should Thy Darkest Fears Be True, If Heaven Be So Severe, That Such A Soul As Thine Is Lost, Oh! How Shall I Appear?

Preserve Me From Such Cordiality! It Is Like Handling Briar-roses And May-blossoms - Bright Enough To The Eye, And Outwardly Soft To The Touch, But You Know There Are Thorns Beneath, And Every Now And Then You Feel Them Too; And Perhaps Resent The Injury By Crushing Them In Till You Have Destroyed Their Power, Though Somewhat To The Detriment Of Your Own Fingers.

If I Hate The Sins, I Love The Sinner, And Would Do Much For His Salvation