The Book of the ag­es, the old­est, the new;
We love thee, thy pre­cepts, thy say­ings so true;
Sweet light and as­sur­ance thy ra­di­ance leave,
And com­fort in sor­row to those who be­lieve.

Our fa­thers did love thee, thou blest sac­red Book;
Thy words were their coun­sel, of thee they par­took;
In sea­sons of anguish, ’mid fa­got and flame,
Thy pro­mise sus­tained them, they hon­ored thy name.

Dear Bi­ble, thy pag­es our God doth re­veal,
Thy won­der­ful Gos­pel hath pow­er to heal;
We read on thy pag­es of God’s love to man,
Salvation pro­vid­ed through Je­sus’ dear name.

And now, bless­èd Bi­ble, our lamp thou shalt be,
To guide us all safe­ly o’er life’s rug­ged sea;
And when to the ha­ven of rest we shall come,
We’ll sing of thy worth with the ran­somed at home.