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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=384354" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Conversion</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=384354" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">When this world's pleasures for my soul sufficed, <br> Ere my heart's plummet sounded depths of pain, <br> I call on Reason to control my brain, <br>And scoffed at that old story of Christ.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=384354" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But when o'er burning wastes my feet had trod, <br> And all my life was desolate with loss, <br> With bleeding hands I clung about the cross, <br>And cried aloud, 'Man needs a suffering God! '</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Ella+Wheeler+Wilcox">Ella Wheeler Wilcox</a></strong></div>

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