Grace Was In All Her

Innumerable As The Stars Of Night, Or Stars Of Morning, Dewdrops Which The Sun Impearls On Every Leaf And Every Flower.

God Made Thee Perfect, Not Immutable.

Farewell Hope, And With Hope Farewell Fear

What In Me Is Dark Illumine, What Is Low Raise And Support, That To The Height Of This Great Argument I May Assert Eternal Providence, And Justify The Ways Of God To Men. 1 Paradise Lost. Book I. Line 22.

Hard Are The Ways Of Truth, And Rough To Walk.