Poem by Lady Powerscourt (1800-1836)

Lord! Let my heart still turn to Thee,
In all my hours of waking thought,
Nor let this heart e'er wish to flee,
Or think, or feel, where Thou art not.

In every hour of pain and woe,
When nought on earth this heart can cheer,
When sighs will burst and tears will flow,
Lord, hush the sigh and chase the tear.

In every dream of earthly bliss,
Do Thou, dear Jesus, present be;
Nor let a thought of happiness
On earth intrude, apart from Thee!

To my last lingering thought at night,
Do Thou, Lord Jesus, still be near;
And ere the dawn of opening light
In still small accents wake mine ear.

Whene'er I read Thy sacred word,
Bright on the page in glory shine;
And let me say, "This precious Lord
In all His full salvation's mine."

And when before the throne I kneel,
Hear from that throne of grace my prayer,
And let each hope of heaven I feel
Burn with the thought to meet Thee there.

Thus teach me, Lord, to look to Thee
In every hour of waking thought;
Nor let me ever wish to be,
Or think, or feel, where Thou art not.