In This World A Man Must Either

When Christ Ascended Triumphantly From Star To Star He Left The Gates Of Heaven Ajar.

Though The Mills Of God Grind Slowly, Yet They Grind Exceeding Small; Though With Patience He Stands Waiting, With Exactness Grinds He All.

No Tears Dim The Sweet Look That Nature Wears.

As Turning The Logs Will Make A Dull Fire Burn, So Change Of Studies A Dull Brain.

At First Laying Down, As A Fact Fundamental, That Nothing With God Can Be Accidental.