Sunday, March 08, 2009

Green Fields

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.

His name yields the richest perfume
And sweeter than music his voice
His presence disperses my gloom
And bids 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 presence 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!

--John Newton

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