My Life.
My life is but a weaving
Between my, Lord and Me,
I can not choose the colors
He worketh steadily

Oft times he weavveth sorrow
and I in foolish pride;
Forget he sees the upper
and I the under side.

Not till the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly;
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why;

The dark threads are as needful
In the weavers skill full hand;
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern he has planned.

Gossip - Carless or irresponcible repetition
of Harmful stories, wheather true or false.

Behind the cloud
Behind the cloud the starlight lurks.
Through showers the sunbeams full
For God who leavith all his works,
Has left his hope with all