1  How tedious and tasteless the hours

    When Jesus no longer I see!

    Sweet prospects, sweet birds and sweet flow'rs,

    Have all lost their sweetness to me.

    The midsummer 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 resigned;

    No changes of season or place,

    Would make any change in my mind.

    While blessed with a sense of His love,

    A palace a toy would appear;

    And prisons would palaces prove,

    If Jesus would dwell with me there.

 4  My Lord, if indeed I am Thine,

    If Thou art my sun and my song,

    Say, why do I languish and pine?

    And why are my winters so long?

    Oh, drive these dark clouds from the sky,

    Thy soul-cheering presence restore;

    Or take me to Thee up on high,

    Where winter and clouds are no more.