How tedious and tasteless the hours
When Jesus no longer I see;
Sweet prospects, sweet birds and sweet flowers
Have lost all their sweetness for me:
The midsummer sun shines but dim;
The fields appear somber and gray;
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 so nigh,
Have nothing to wish or to fear;
No mortal so happy as I;
My summer would last the whole 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 blest with a sense of His love,
A palace a toy would appear;
And prisons would palaces prove,
If Jesus would dwell with me there.
John Newton
Ed. Note: The first two verses of this lovely poem were run in the June issue of the Christian Shepherd. They were attributed to J. G. Bellett. However, the above is the complete poem, evidently written by John Newton rather than by Mr. Bellett.