I do confess thou art sae fair, I wad been o'er the lugs in luve; Had I na found, the slightest prayer That lips could speak, thy heart could muve. I do confess thee sweet, but find, Thou art sae ...

I’m a complainer. I’m not proud of it. In fact, I know the Holy Spirit is convicting me of this very sin. This is the reason for my confession. How do I know complaining is a sin? The ...

that Friday I was fou/When I came near her Dignifying his lust as some kind of legitimate torture that buffets him e’en and morn allows him to move quickly on to the prayer’s main purpose.