Where had his strength lain before he lost it?
Could that ever have been HIS which he could not keep?
If a thing were ours, nothing could ever take it from us! Was his strength ever his then?
Yes, for God had given it him.

Then he could not have lost it! He had it still! The branches of it were gone, but the root remained, hid in God.

All was well.

If God chose that his child should lie there, for this day, and to-morrow, or till the next year, or if it pleased him that he should never rise again with the same body, was that a thing to trouble him?
He turned his back on the ugly room, and was presently fast asleep again.
Not a few read the poems of a certain king brought up a shepherd lad.

From Sunday to Sunday they read them.