Submitted by Harold S. Paisley
Devotion is that fruit which sown below
To be admired in heaven, soon will grow.
‘Tis passed by men unnoticed and unknown
But angels prize it, and God smiles thereon.
‘Tis often sweetest in the suffering saint
Who ‘neath life’s burden weary is and faint,
Working that faith which makes the spirit rise
To things eternal hid from mortal eyes,
Which looks to Christ and to the end endures,
The glory of eternal weight procures.
Love never seeks the furnace to escape
Its dreaded heat, the Crown of life doth shape.