This page needs to be proofread.
bo many On an idle day have a grieved over my lost time. But they are never lost, may lord. Thou hast taken every moment of meg life in thine own hands. Hedelen into the heart of thingo there art nourishing seeds into sproute, buds into blossoms, and sipening flowers into fruitfulness, I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all works had ceased. In the mo morning I woke up and found my garden fall with wonders of flowers. 61
