Welcome, Maids Of Honor, You Doe Bring

My Soul I'll Pour Into Thee.

God Doth Not Promise Here To Man That Hewill Free Him Quickly From His Misery;but In His Own Time, And When He Thinks Fit,then He Will Give A Happy End To It.

In The Hour Of My Distress, When Temptations Me Oppress, And When I My Sins Confess, Sweet Spirit, Comfort Me.

The Body Is The Soul's Poor House Or Home, Whose Ribs The Laths Are And Whose Flesh The Loam.

In Vain Our Labours Are, Whatsoe'er They Be, Unless God Gives The Benediction.