In order to grow in grace, we must be much alone. It is not in society that the soul grows most vigorously. In one single quiet hour of prayer it will often make more progress than in days of company with others. It is in the desert that the dew falls freshest and the air its purest.
The soul and eternity of one man depends upon the voice of another
A few more years shall roll, A few more seasons come; And we shall be with those that rest, Asleep within the tomb. A few more storms shall beat On this wild rocky shore; And we shall be where tempests cease, And surges swell no more. A few more struggles here, A few more partings o'er, A few more toils, a few more tears, And we shall weep no more. Then, O my Lord, prepare My soul for that blest day; Oh, wash me in Thy precious blood, And take my sins away.
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