There's no end to it

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One time when they had the Welsh revival going on, there was some dignitaries from the States, some of these great doctors of divinity went over to Wales to find out where and what all this was about. So they had on their turned around collars, and their plug hats, and they was walking down the street. And here come a little cop along, whirling his little billy-club in his hand, a-whistling, "Down at the cross where my Saviour died, Down there for cleansing from sin I cried. There to my heart was the blood applied, Glory to His Name," walking down the street. So they said, "This seems to be a religious man, we'll go ask him." And they said, "Mister!" Said, "Yes, sir." He said, "We are here from the United States. We're a delegation. We come over here to investigate the Welsh revival, so-called. We are doctors of divinity, and we're here to look it over." He said, "We want to know where the revival is and where it's held." He said, "Sir, you have arrived. I am the Welsh revival." Amen. "The Welsh revival's in me. Here's where it's at." That's the way it is when you live by that Fountain of living Waters. It's living all the time, bubbling over, and over, and over, and over; there's no end to it.

Broken Cisterns - 64-0726E - William Branham