Our sins breathe fire; thy fire returns to purge us.

Lord, what an alchemist art thou, whose skill

Transmutes to perfect good from perfect ill!

—Francis Quarles.

———

The path of sorrow, and that path alone,

Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown;

No traveler e'er reached that blest abode

Who found not thorns and briers in his road.

—William Cowper.