The Bloom Fell Off My

O, What I Owe To The File, The Hammer, And The Furnace Of The Lord Jesus! I Know That He Is No Idle Husbandman - He Purposes A Crop.

Show Yourself A Christian By Suffering Without Murmuring. In Patience Possess Your Soul - They Lose Nothing Who Gain Christ.

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

The Great Master Gardener, The Father Of Our Lord Jesus Christ, In A Wonderful Providence, With His Own Hand, Planted Me Here, Where By His Grace, In This Part Of His Vineyard, I Grow; And Here I Will Abide Till The Great Master Of The Vineyard Think Fit To Transplant Me.

No Created Powers Can Mar Our Lord Jesus' Music, Nor Spill Our Song Of Joy. Let Us Then Be Glad And Rejoice In The Salvation Of Our Lord