WE DO NOT KNOW.
311
Our best is ill, our worst perhaps
His pity cottons a lesser lapse;
But every sin is very black
And turns us back
From duty's straight and shining track.
His pity cottons a lesser lapse;
But every sin is very black
And turns us back
From duty's straight and shining track.
Sweet is the fear that will not dare
Forget His law or spurn His care,
And sweeter still the love that saith
With every breath,
"Lord, make me faithful unto death."
Forget His law or spurn His care,
And sweeter still the love that saith
With every breath,
"Lord, make me faithful unto death."
