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 !

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