Oh no! Don't drag us away from Antartica and take us to the playground of the rich and famous! Not that briar patch! -Max
Oh no! Don't drag us away from Antartica and take us to the playground of the rich and famous! Not that briar patch! -Max
I have some friends, some honest friends, and honest friends are few; My pipe of briar, my open fire, A book that's not too new.
Doubt cries, 'It is impossible You can't, you can't go on' Faith softly whispers, 'Yes, you can. Just trust in God. Be Calm.' Doubt cries, 'Look down Your path is steep And rough with stones and briar' Faith gently says, 'I'll take your hand. It's beautiful up higher.' Doubt has not one thing to give But 'going back' alone Faith has God, eternal life, And heirship to a throne And so, on unseen eagle's wings, These feet of clay are borne. While faith within me sings and sings, We rise above the storm.
I sing the first green leaf upon the bough, The tiny kindling flame of emerald fire, The stir amid the roots of reeds, and how The sap will flush the briar.
Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch
Turn, and return, indenting with the way;
Each envious briar his weary legs doth scratch,
Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay:
For misery is trodden on by many,
And being low never reliev'd by any.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories