Every Day We May See

I Know That, As Night And Shadows Are Good For Flowers, And Moonlight And Dews Are Better Than A Continual Sun, So Is Christ's Absence Of Special Use, And That It Hath Some Nourishing Virtue In It, And Giveth Sap To Humility, And Putteth An Edge On Hunger, And Funisheth A Fairfield To Faith To Put Forth Itself, And To Exercise Its Fingers In Gripping It Seeth Not What.

Faith's Speculations To The Worst And Hardest, In Point Of Resolution, Are Sweet.

You Will Not Be Carried To Heaven Lying At Ease Upon A Feather Bed.

No Pen, No Words, No Image Can Express To You The Loveliness Of My Only, Only Lord Jesus.

I Know You Are In Grief And Heaviness; And If It Were Not So, You Might Be Afraid, Because Then Your Way Would Not Be So Like The Way That Our Lord Saith Leadeth To The New Jerusalem. Sure I Am, If You Knew What Were Before You, Or If You Saw Some Glances Of It, You Would, With Gladness, Swim Through The Present Floods Of Sorrow, Spreading Forth Your Arms Out Of Desire To Be At Land.