We use cookies to ensure that we give you the best experience on our website. Close

Wishing You a Blessed Thanksgiving from Gloriæ Dei Cantores!

Listen to Green Fields, by Virgil Thompson, Poem by John Newton

 

How tedious and tasteless the hours When Jesus no longer I see! Sweet prospect, 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 makes all within me rejoice. I should, were He always thus nigh, Have nothing to wish or to fear; No mortal so happy as I, My summer would last all the year.

Content with beholding His face, My all in His pleasure resigned; No changes of season or place Would make any change in my mind While bless’d with a sense of His love, A palace of joy would appear, And 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 my sky Thy soul-cheering presence restore; Or take me unto Thee on high, Where winter and clouds are no more.