I Know Not How It Is, But

The Day Is Done, And The Darkness Falls From The Wings Of Night, As A Feather Is Wafted Downward From An Eagle In His Flight.

O Thou Child Of Many Prayers! Life Hath Quicksands, Life Hath Snares! Care And Age Come Unawares!

The Market-place, The Eager Love Of Gain, Whose Aim Is Vanity, And Whose End Is Pain!

Behind The Clouds Is The Sun Still Shining.

Difficulty On The Way To Victory Is Opportunity For God To Work