Unattributed Author

He speaketh to me the words of men. I listen to him and I repeat
to him the words read more

He speaketh to me the words of men. I listen to him and I repeat
to him the words of gods.

Our life's a flying shadow, God's the pole,
The index pointing at Him is our soul;
Death read more

Our life's a flying shadow, God's the pole,
The index pointing at Him is our soul;
Death the horizon, when our sun is set,
Which will through Christ a resurrection get.

Live ye, he says, I flee.

Live ye, he says, I flee.

The weakest goeth to the wall.

The weakest goeth to the wall.

When treading London's well-known ground
If e'er I feel my spirits tire,
I haul my sail, look read more

When treading London's well-known ground
If e'er I feel my spirits tire,
I haul my sail, look up around,
In search of Whitbread's best entire.
- Unattributed Author,