Nature Did All Things Well

A Beautiful Thing Never Gives So Much Pain As Does Failing To Hear And See It.

From Such A Gentle Thing, From Such A Fountain Of All Delight, My Every Pain Is Born.

Serene I Fold My Hands And Wait.

I Live In Sin, To Kill Myself I Live; No Longer My Life My Own, But Sin's; My Good Is Given To Me By Heaven, My Evil By Myself, By My Free Will, Of Which I Am Deprived.

Do Not Fret, For God Did Not Create Us To Abandon Us.