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function text() {
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text = new text();
number = 0;

// textArray
text[number++] = " Jesus said unto him,<br />Thou shalt love the Lord thy God<br />with all thy heart, and with all thy soul,<br />and with all thy mind.<br /><em>&#8212;Matthew 22:37</em>"
text[number++] = "'Twas He who taught me thus to pray,<br />And He, I trust, has answered prayer;<br />But it has been in such a way <br />As almost drove me to despair.<br /><em>&#8212;John Newton (1725-1807)</em>"
text[number++] = "We limit not the truth of God<br />To our poor reach of mind,<br />By notions of our day and sect,<br />Crude, partial, and confined.<br /><em>&#8212;George Rawson (1807-1889)</em>"
text[number++] = "Sinners, will you scorn the message<br />Sent in mercy from above?<br />Every sentence, O how tender!<br />Every line is full of love<br /><em>&#8212;Joachim Neander, (1680-?)</em>"
text[number++] = "My God, how perfect are thy ways!<br />But mine polluted are;<br />Sin twines itself about my praise,<br />And slides into my pray'r.<br /><em>&#8212;Isaac Watts (1674-1748)</em>"
text[number++] = "Father, to thee we look in all our sorrow;<br />Thou are the fountain when our healing flows;<br />Dark though the night, joy commeth with the morrow;<br />Savingly they rest who on they love repose.<br /><em>&#8212;Frederick L. Hosmer (1840-1929)</em>"
text[number++] = "Before Thee, God, Who knowest all,<br />With grief and shame I prostrate fall,<br />I see my sins against Thee, Lord,<br />The sins of thought, of deed, and word.<br /><em>&#8212;Magnus B. Landstad, (1861-?)</em>"
text[number++] = "Patient, O heart, though heavy be thy sorrows,<br />Be not cast down, disquieted in vain;<br />Yet shall thou praise him, when these darkened furrows,<br />Where now he ploweth, wave with golden grain.<br /><em>&#8212;Frederick L. Hosmer (1840-1929)</em>"
text[number++] = "Thrice blest is he to whom is given<br />The instinct that can tell<br />That God is on the field when he<br />Is most invisible.<br /><em>&#8212;Frederick W. Faber (1814-1863</em>)"
text[number++] = "Blest too is he who can divine<br />Where real right doth lie,<br />And dares to take the side that seems<br />Wrong to mans blindfold eye.<em><br />&#8212;Frederick W. Faber (1814-1863)</em>"
text[number++] = "For right is right, since God is God,<br />And right the day must win;<br />To doubt would be disloyalty,<br />To falter would be sin.<br /><em>&#8212;Frederick W. Faber (1814-1863)</em>"
text[number++] = "Prostrate I'll lie before His throne,<br />And there my guilt confess,<br />I'll tell Him, I'm a wretch undone,<br />Without His sovereign grace.<br /><em>&#8212;John S. Camp, 1905</em>"
text[number++] = "Hasten, sinner, to be wise!<br />Stay not for the morrow's sun:<br />Wisdom if you still despise,<br />Harder is it to be won.<br /><em>&#8212;Ignaz J. Pleyel, 1791</em>"
text[number++] = "God is my strong salvation;<br />What foe have I to fear?<br />In darkness and temptation<br />My light, my help is near.<br /><em>&#8212;James Montgomery (1771-1854)</em>"
text[number++] = "Though host encamp around me,<br />Firm in the fight I stand;<br />What terror can confound me,<br />With God at my right hand?<br /><em>&#8212;James Montgomery (1771-1854)</em>"
text[number++] = "Place on the Lord reliance,<br />My soul, with courage wait;<br />His truth be thine affiance,<br />When faint and desolate.<br /><em>&#8212;James Montgomery (1771-1854)</em>"
text[number++] = "His might thy heart shall strengthen,<br />His love thy joy increase;<br />Mercy thy days shall lengthen;<br />The Lord will give the peace.<br /><em>&#8212;James Montgomery (1771-1854)</em>"
text[number++] = "My faith, it is an oaken staff,<br />The traveler's well-loved aid;<br />My faith, it is an weapon stout,<br />The soldier's trusty blade.<br /><em>&#8212;Thomas T. Lynch (1818-1871)</em>"
text[number++] = "I'll travel on, and still be stirred<br />By silent thought or social word;<br />By all my perils undeterred,<br />A soldier pilgrim staid.<br /><em>&#8212;Thomas T. Lynch (1818-1871)</em>"
text[number++] = "The pity of the Lord<br />To those that fear His Name<br />Is such as tender parents feel:<br />He knows our feeble frame.<br /><em>&#8212;Isaac Watts (1674-1748)</em>"
text[number++] = "Revive Thy work, O Lord,<br />Disturb the sleep of death;<br />Quicken the smoldering embers now<br />By Thine almighty breath!<br /><em>&#8212;Albert Midlane (1825-1909)</em>"
text[number++] = "This sacred stream, Thy holy Word,<br />Thus all our raging fear controls;<br />Sweet peace Thy promises afford,<br />And give new strength to faining souls.<br /><em>&#8212;Isaac Watts (1674-1748)</em>"
text[number++] = "His power subdues our sins;<br />And His forgiving love,<br />Far as the east is from the west,<br />Doth all our guilt remove.<br /><em>&#8212;Isaac Watts (1674-1748)</em>"
text[number++] = "God's Word, for all their craft and force,<br />One moment will not linger,<br />But, in spite of hell, shall have its course;<br />'Tis written by His finger.<br /><em>&#8212;Martin Luther (1483-1546)</em>"
text[number++] = "But Thy compassions, Lord,<br />To endless years endure;<br />And children's children ever find<br />Thy words of promise sure.<br /><em>&#8212;Isaac Watts (1674-1748)</em>"
text[number++] = "My faith, it is an oaken staff,<br />O let me on it lean!<br />My faith, it is an trusty sword,<br />May falsehood find it keen!<br /><em>&#8212;Thomas T. Lynch (1818-1871)</em>"
text[number++] = "I hoped that in some favored hour<br />At once He'd answer my request;<br />And, by His love's constraining power, <br />Subdue my sins, and give me rest.<br /><em>&#8212;John Newton(1725-1807)</em>"
text[number++] = "Why, what hath my Love done?<br />What makes this rage and spite?<br />He made the lame to run,<br />He gave the blind their sight.<br /><em>&#8212;Samuel Crossman (1624-1683)</em>"
text[number++] = "Thee, mighty God, whose matchless power<br />Is ever new, and ever young,<br />And firm endures, while endless years<br />Their everlasting circles run.<br /><em>&#8212;Isaac Watts (1674-1748)</em>"
text[number++] = "Lighten the darkness of our self-conceit,<br />The subtle darkness that we love so well,<br />Which shrouds the path of wisdom from our feet,<br />And lulls our spirits with its baneful spell.<br /><em>&#8212;Frances M Owen (1842-1883)</em>"
text[number++] = "Revive Thy work, O Lord,<br />Thy right arm make bare;<br />Speak with the voice that wakes the dead,<br />And make Thy people hear!<br /><em>&#8212;Albert Midlane (1825-1909)</em>"


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