God's gifts put men's best dreams to shame.

Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low, Lest I should fear and fall, and miss Thee so Who art not missed by any that entreat.

God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame.

God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame.

No man can be called friendless who has God and the companionship of good books.

World's use is cold, world's love is vain, world's cruelty is bitter bane; but is not the fruit of pain.