hisfeet

When I survey the wondrous crossOn which the Prince of Glory diedMy richest gain I count but lossAnd pour contempt on all my prideSee from his head, his hands, his feetSorrow and love flow mingled downDid ever such love and sorrow meetOr thorns compose so . . . 阅读详情

When does a boy become a man?What qualifies his soul as being worthy?His hands, his feet, his smile they determine his view.But his mind, his thoughts, his actions define his worth.My time has come to rise above your words, Your painful words and fall in . . . 阅读详情