Poems (Louisa Blake)/Devotion

For works with similar titles, see Devotion.
DEVOTION.
When every earthly joy is fled,
When friends are dead and gone,
When parents in the grave are laid
And we are left alone:

When sickness comes with torturing pain,
And dire disease draws nigh,
To whom but to a gracious God,
For succor shall we fly?

When on the stormy sea of life
Our little bark is toss'd,
With care and pain at every turn
Our devious path is cross'd;

What can afford us strength of mind,
Give patience under pain,
What teach us how to be resign'd,
How sorrow to sustain?

It is Devotion's gentle glow,
That elevates the heart,
That bids us calmly sorrow bear,
And act the Christian part.

Devotion's lineaments we trace
In every Christian breast,
And where she makes her dwelling-place,
Is found sweet peace and rest;

She gives a zest to all the good,
With which our life is blest,
Where she resides nought can occur
To make the mind distress'd;

She 's with us all our journey through,
And when our death draws nigh,
She still remains our constant friend,
And points us to the sky.