The Church Upon the Hill 
God Rather than Wealth 
Mother Up In Heaven 
When God Made Man 
My Church 
The Young Preacher 
The Difference God Can Make 
The Way God Has Led Me
God’s Power Unlimited 
God’s Creations 

The Road of Love
My Butterfly
Love Out Of Control
To Bonnie 
Love Of A Maiden 
Woe Is Me 

Life’s Reflections 
My Brother
Awaiting Mother 
My Mother 
Hill Country 
Childhood Memories 
My Thoughts of A Small Lake 
Good Fortune’s Turn 
Flora 
My Happy Dreams 
If I Should Write 
Steel 
Spring’s Approach 

If we want our rains in season, 
And the hay our barns to fill, 
Let us worship with our neighbors 
In the church upon the hill.

If our hearts are filled with gladness
Through the grace of him above, 
Let us not be selfish feeders 
On the manna of his love.

There are hungry souls about us
Stumbling feebly in the night. 
It is ours to lead them kindly 
To God’s table in the light.

If on our knees in supplication 
We shall seek our Master’s will, 
There will be great spiritual feastings, 
In the evenings on the hill.

Great will be the joy in heaven 
As altar-bound the soul-sick trod, 
When they hear the gospel message 
From a man that’s called of God.

Then the two-edged sword of Jesus 
Will cut from fearful hearts the dread, 
And free their stricken souls from prison 
Where the tempters steps have led.

May the glorious love of Jesus In
great power be manifest, 
As the souls up at the altar 
Testify of peace and rest.

All we Christians in this valley,
All we sinners saved by grace, 
Let us seek our Master’s guidance, 
Let us ‘Seek our Savior’s face.

As he leads us let us follow 
And his sanctuary fill, 
That there may be joy in Heaven 
From our worship on the hill.

Let me listen to the still, small voice of Jesus.
Let me follow in the footsteps of my lord.
For the things this world doth flaunt and offer
Are the things a Christian life can not afford.

Lord let me help some needy one around me,
Some stumbling soul that’s neither kith nor kin.
And maybe someone else will help my brother,
Oh that someone that helpful hand would lend!

For it's so hard for one to reach a brother.
He just thinks you are a prating fool.
Not knowing that the art of foolish preaching
Is to our God another golden rule.
 
Woe Is Me

Your frigid heart I cannot thaw
And the sun is fast descending.
I know that when soft shadows creep
That naught for me is pending.

So, woe is me, my soul is dark.
I cannot see the light.
And the worst of all that could befall;
I’m lonesome here tonight.

My heart is in your jail again
And, dear, the option’s yours.
Why don’t you let me out of here
And seek for richer lures.

I cannot reach you with my love.
Your coldness torments me.
I think that I could find true love
If you would set me free.

I long for lips both soft and warm
Somewhere beyond these bars.
Why don’t you toss me in the key
And take a trip to Mars.