I Find The Medicine Worse Than The

We Must Not Be Content To Be Cleansed From Sin; We Must Be Filled With The Spirit.

I Find The Medicine Worse Than The Malady.

Hence, All You Vain Delights, As Short As Are The Nights Wherein You Spend Your Folly! There's Naught In This Life Sweet But Only Melancholy; O Sweetest Melancholy!

Only Look To Jesus. He Died For You, Died In Your Place, Died Under The Frowns Of Heaven, That We Might Die Under Its Smile. Regard Neither Unbelief Nor Doubt. Fear Neither Sin Nor Hell. Choose Neither Life Nor Death. All These Are Swallowed Up In The Immensity Of Christ And Are Triumphed Over In His Cross.

Drink Today, And Drown All Sorrow; You Shall Perhaps Not Do Tomorrow.