1 Precious Bible, what a Treasure,
Does the Word of God afford?
All I Want for Life and Pleasure,
Food or Med'cine, Shield or Sword;
Let the World account me Poor,
Having this, I want no more.
2 Food to which the World a stranger,
Here, my hungry Soul enjoys;
Of Excess, there is no Danger,
Tho' it fills, it never Cloys.
On a dying Christ I feed,
He is Meat and drink indeed.
3 When my Faith is faint and sickly,
Or when satan Wounds my Mind;
Cordials to revive me quickly,
Healing Med'cines here I find:
To the Promises I flee,
Each affords a Remedy.
4 In the Hour of dark Temptation,
Satan cannot make me yield;
For the Word of Consolation
Is to me a mighty Shield.
While the Scripture Truths endure,
From his Pow'r I am secure.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Precious Bible, what a Treasure |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1791 |
Topic: | Holy Scriptures |