How tedious and tasteless the hours, br When Jesus no longer I see; br Sweet prospects, sweet birds, and sweet flow'rs, br Have lost all their sweetness with me: br The mid-summer sun shines but dim, br The fields strive in vain to look gay; br But when I am happy in Him, br December's as pleasant as May. br br His name yields the richest perfume, br And sweeter than music his voice; br His presence disperses my gloom, br And makes all within me rejoice: br I should, were he always thus nigh, br Have nothing to wish or to fear; br No mortal so happy as I, br My summer would last all the year. br br Content with beholding his face, br My all to his pleasure resigned; br No changes of season or place, br Would make any change in my mind: br While blessed with a sense of his love, br A palace a toy would appear; br And prisons would palaces prove, br If Jesus would dwell with me there. br br Dear Lord, if indeed I am thine, br If thou art my sun and my song; br Say, why do I languish and pine, br And why are my winters so long? br O drive these dark clouds from my sky, br Thy soul-cheering presence restore; br Or take me unto thee on high, br Where winter and clouds are no more.