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For Satan always finds some mischief still for idle hands to do.

Isaac Watts

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Isaac Watts
Age: 74 †
Born: 1674
Born: July 17
Died: 1748
Died: November 25
Hymnwriter
Philosopher
Poet
Theologian
Writer
Southampton
Hampshire
Isaac Watts
Hands
Stills
Still
Mischief
Always
Idleness
Laziness
Idle
Satan
Finds

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Acquaint yourself with your own ignorance.
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When I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies, I'll bid farewell to every fear, And wipe my weeping eyes.
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When general observations are drawn from so many particulars as to become certain and indisputable, these are jewels of knowledge.
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There's no repentance in the grave.
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Thoughts, like old vultures, prey upon their heart-strings
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Talking over the things which you have read with your companions fixes them on the mind.
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I would not change my blest estate for all the world calls good or great.
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Speak softly. It is far better to rule by love than fear.Speak softly. Let no harsh words mar the good we may do here.
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Whene'er I take my walks abroad,How many poor I see!What shall I render to my GodFor all his gifts to me?
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Fancy and humour, early and constantly indulged in, may expect an old age overrun with follies.
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When I survey the wondrous cross On which the Prince of Glory died, My richest gain I count but loss, And pour contempt on all my pride.
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Roses grow on thorns and honey wears a sting.
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Love is amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.
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Disputation carries away the mind from that calm and sedate temper which is so necessary to contemplate truth.
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There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain.
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No more let sins and sorrows grow, Nor thorns infest the ground He comes to make His blessings flow Far as the curse is found.
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So, when a raging fever burns, We shift from side to side by turns And 't is a poor relief we gain To change the place, but keep the pain.
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Forbid it Lord that I should boast, save in the death of Christ, my God: All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to his blood.
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Kind words toward those you daily meet, Kind words and actions right, Will make this life of ours most sweet, Turn darkness into night.
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Our God, our help in ages past,Our hope for years to come,Our shelter from the stormy blast,And our eternal home.
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