How tedious and tasteless the hours,

When JESUS no longer I see;

Sweet prospects, sweet birds, and sweet flow’rs,

Have lost all their sweetness with me:

The mid–summer 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.

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.

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.

Dear 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?

O drive these dark clouds from my sky,

Thy soul–cheering presence restore;

Or take me unto thee on high,

Where winter and clouds are no more.