How Tedious and Tasteless

How te­di­ous and taste­less the hours

When Je­sus no long­er I see;

Sweet pros­pects

sweet birds and sweet flow­ers

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.

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 as 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;

All 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 the sky

Thy soul cheer­ing pre­sence re­store;

Or take me to Thee up on high

Where win­ter and clouds are no more.