The sunny hours of childhood,

How pleasant, fresh, and bright! 

But, like the morning sunbeams,

They quickly take their flight. 

O'er hearts that now are lightest,

A cloud may soon arise, 

And faces that are brightest

Be dimmed by tearful eyes.

If we would glow with gladness, 

And paths of pleasure trace,

Then we, to banish sadness, 

Must gaze on Jesus' face.

'Tis sunshine to be dwelling 

Where all is light and love;

And bliss, all thought excelling, 

To rest in Christ above.

He is the Sun and center

Of Heaven's delightsome land; 

And blest are they who enter,

And in his presence stand, 

The Lamb adoring, praising,

Who once on earth was slain; 

To God the Father raising

The ever-joyous strain.