My Precious Bible




My Bible, precious treasure!

Worth more than gems or gold;

Be it my choicest treasure

Thy covers to unfold.

Thy fair illumined pages

With God’s own glory shine;

Down through the long, long ages,

It gleams in ev’ry line.



My precious Bible! ’tis a book divine,

Where heavenly truth and mercy shine,

And wisdom speaks in ev’ry line,

Speaks to me, speaks to me,

Speaks good news to me.



For God’s exceeding glory,

His very life is love;

All through His sacred story

Its splendor is inwove.

It glows in man’s creation,

And O! more radiant still,

In His complete salvation,

From sin and mortal ill.



I read and weep and wonder,

How God, a holy God,

Could still the law’s wild thunder,

With mercy, gentle word.

How raise the pale transgressor,

Bow low with pain and fear,

And make him Heav’n’s possessor,

With Christ, the Son, an heir.



O, marvelous relation!

O, tender, pitying love!

Of saints the admiration,

The song of host above.

Be this my wondrous story,

My daily, fresh delight,

And in this flood of glory,

My soul be ever bright.

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