Happiness is not here. There is no rose without a thorn, except the rose of Sharon. Any little happiness we taste in this life is mixed with misery. When we go to the creature for happiness it disappoints us. The language of our hearts is, “O that I had such a blessing.” When the blessing is granted, we find that it is either very unsubstantial or short lived. And the more our hearts are knit with affection to any earthly thing, the stroke is severer when we must part—and part we must, for nothing will last always but God.