You Will Not Be Carried To Heaven

Well's Them Who Are Under Crosses, And Christ Says To Them, "half Mine."

I Pray God That I May Never Find My Will Again. Oh, That Christ Would Subject My Will To His, And Trample It Under His Feet.

I See Christ's Love Is So Kingly, That It Will Not Abide A Marrow It Must Have A Throne All Alone In The Soul.

I Perceive We Postpone All Our Joys Of Christ, Till He And We Be In Our Own House Above, Thinking That There Is Nothing Of It Here To Be Sought Or Found, But Only Hope And Fair Promises; And That Christ Will Give Us Nothing Here But Tears, Sadness, Crosses; And That We Shall Never Feel The Smell Of The Flowers Of That High Garden Of Paradise Above, Till We Come There. Nay, But I Find It Possible To Find Young Glory, And A Young Green Paradise Of Joy Even Here. We Dream Of Hunger In Christ's House, While We Are Here, Although He Alloweth Feasts To All The Bairns Within God's Household.

Since He Looked Upon Me My Heart Is Not My Own. He Hath Runaway To Heaven With It.