Let's Contend No More, Love, Strive Nor

To Me At Least Was Never Evening Yet, But Seemed Far Beautifuller Than Its Day.

Oh, To Be In England Now That April's There.

Death: The Grand Perhaps.

Is Your Love For The Lord Sufficient To Give All Your Time And Talents To His Work?

What? Was Man Made A Wheel-work To Wind Up, And Be Discharged, And Straight Wound Up Anew? No! Grown, His Growth Lasts; Taught, He Ne'er Forgets: May Learn A Thousand Things, Not Twice The Same.