If we could always feel each little thing

We do, each hour we spend

Within the presence of the King,

What dignity ‘twould lend!

If we could realize our every thought

Is known to Him, our King,

With how great carefulness would it be fraught,

And what a blessing bring!

If, when some sharp word leaves a cruel sting,

Our faith could know and feel

‘Twas heard within the presence of the King,

How soon the wound would heal I

Oh, when the song of life seems hard to sing,

And darker grows the way,—

Draw nearer to the presence Of the King,

And night shall turn to day!

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