What does your work profit? Why labor as one great? Does the Lord have need of you? As the saints believe in his greatness, these are the things the Lord will do. * * * * * A High Praise Alleuher with sin I am done, I believe on your son, I am saved by the love of the sanctified one. What more can he say, than to me he has said? Showing mercy to the sinner, and raising the dead. If Jairus had not believed, surely he would not have seen the salvation of Mosier, his power supreme. The children came to seek him. O how they loved him then, O praise his high spirit that is given to men. Yonder comes then that woman, a sinner to her people to say, "Mosier rests by our city, it is time that we pray." O how the children love him, because that he is ever true. His kingdom is with power, all the ages through. * * * * * A High Praise King Mosier traveled through the land. He healed the sick, both of the rich and poor. He cast his spirit upon those in sorrow, and their sorrows were no more. King Mosier went down to the pool of Solomon, where the sick were lying upon the shore. He bid them arise, be on the way, and their diseases were no more. King Mosier went down to Bethany, where the dead were waiting in the tomb. O, death fell from its throne, and delivered up his own, to this power of Mosier that's known. * * * * * A Praise There is a beautiful sea called memory. Many ships come sailing to me through the whole day, From over the beautiful sea of memory. The deep wide sea, the great high sea, My beautiful sea of memory. My beautiful ships on the great high sea. Some are aged like, and hazed in the light of gray. Others are as the roses that bloom in May. Come sailing to me along by the shore through the whole day. Deeds of kindness that are written As the stars over the deep blue sea. Sailing along those that love me. My beautiful ships the light of the mind. Sailing out of the yesterdays to me. Over the deep wide sea, the great high sea, My beautiful sea of memory. * * * * * A High Praise I sing of the great king who reigns in a city far above the star strewn blue. He is master and king over all creation, over the heaven and its angels, and the earth with its people, too. There is a story true as the ages are old, sung by all the children of nature, calling the ancient times unto the present fold. Singing all the children of the great king these anthems as the ages roll. High as the heavens above the earth, so high are his ways. Just children speaking of things in deeds and plays. Jehovah is higher, the great creator, he who gave one for the salvation of our days. * * * * * A High Praise