How tedious and tasteless the hours When Jesus no longer I see! Sweet prospects, sweet birds, and sweet flowers Have lost all 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. 2 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 all the year. 3 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. 4 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. John Newton. 325 De Fleury. 8s. D _Phil. 1:23._ (571) My Savior, whom absent I love, Whom, not having seen, I adore Whose name is exalted above All glory, dominion, and power,-- Dissolve thou these bands that detain My soul from her portion in thee; Ah! strike off this adamant chain, And make me eternally free! 2 When that happy era begins, When arrayed in thy glories I shine, Nor grieve any more, by my sins, The bosom on which I recline, Oh! then shall the veil be removed, And round me thy brightness be poured! I shall meet him, whom absent I loved, I shall see, whom unseen I adored. 3 And then, nevermore shall the fears, The trials, temptations, and woes, Which darken this valley of tears, Intrude on my blissful repose; To Jesus, the crown of my hope, My soul is in haste to be gone; Oh! bear me, ye cherubim, up, And waft me away to his throne! W. Cowper. 326 I Need Thee Every Hour. P.M. _Need of Christ._ I need thee ev'ry hour, Most gracious Lord; No tender voice like thine Can peace afford. Cho.--I need thee, oh, I need thee, Ev'ry hour I need thee; Oh, bless me now, my Savior I come to thee. 2 I need thee ev'ry hour; Stay thou near by; Temptations lose their power When thou art nigh. 3 I need thee ev'ry hour, In joy or pain; Come quickly and abide, Or life is vain. 4 I need thee ev'ry hour; Teach me thy will; And thy rich promises In me fulfill. 5 I need thee ev'ry hour, Most Holy One; Oh, make me thine indeed, Thou blessed Son. Annie S. Hawks. 327 De Fleury. 8s. D _Altogether Lovely._ (572)