1 How tedious and tasteless the hours,
When Jesus no longer I see;
Sweet prospects, sweet birds, and sweet flowers
Have all lost their sweetness with me;
The midsummer's sun shines but dim,
The fields strive in vain to look gay;
But when I am happy in Him,
December's as pleasant as May.
2 His name yields the richest perfume,
And sweeter than music His voice;
His presence disperses my gloom,
And makes all within me rejoice;
I should, were He always thus nigh,
Have nothing to wish or to fear;
No mortal so happy as I,
My summer would last all the year.
3 Content with beholding His face,
My all to His pleasure resign'd;
No changes of seasons or place
Would make any change in my mind.
While bless'd with the sense of His love,
A palace a toy would appear;
And prisons would palaces prove,
If Jesus would dwell with me there.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | How tedious and tasteless the hours |
Meter: | 8s. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1870 |
Topic: | Blessedness: of piety; Christians: their life and experience; Communion: With Christ(3 more...) |
Notes: | Author from index: Newton |