What I Do Is Me, For That

Any Day, Any Minute We Bless God For Our Being Or For Anything, For Food, For Sunlight, We Do And Are What We Were Meant For, Madefor--things That Give And Mean To Give God Glory.

The Best Ideal Is The True And Other Truth Is None. All Glory Be Ascribed To The Holy Three In One.

What Is All This Juice And All This Joy?

Nothing Is So Beautiful As Spring- When Weeds, In Wheels, Shoot Long And Lovely And Lush; Thrush's Eggs Look Little Low Heavens, And Thrush Through The Echoing Timber Does So Rinse And Wring The Ear, It Strikes Like Lightnings To Hear Him Sing; The Glassy Peartree Leaves And Blooms, They Brush The Descending Blue; That Blue Is All In A Rush With Richness; The Racing Lambs Too Have Fair Their Fling. What Is All This Juice And All This Joy? A Strain Of The Earth's Sweet Being In The Beginning In Eden Garden.-have, Get, Before It Cloy.

I Do Not Think I Have Ever Seen Anything More Beautiful Than The Bluebell I Have Been Looking At. I Know The Beauty Of Our Lord By It.