Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
Lord, it is my chief complaint, That my love is weak and faint Yet I love thee and adore, Oh for grace to love thee more.
Did Charity prevail, the press would proveA vehicle of virtue, truth, and love.
Society, friendship, and love, Divinely bestowed upon man, Oh, had I the wings of a dove, How soon would I taste you again
Oh let me then at length be taughtWhat I am still so slow to learnThat God is love, and changes not,Nor knows the shadow of a turn.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories