Like a com­pass on the sea,
Like a star on az­ure deep,
Is the Bi­ble unto me,
For my course it safe­ly keeps;
Tells me how I strayed and fell,
How in sin I lay as dead,
But I live its pow­er to tell,
Blessèd book my mo­ther read.

Refrain

Precious book! O won­drous book!
Who can tell its pow­er di­vine?
Bearing news of grace so free,
Book of books, I claim it mine.

Like a lamp in dark­est night,
Shining on my path­way lone,
Now and then up­on my sight,
Shows a vi­sion of my home;
So this book my Spir­it cheers,
When all oth­er hopes are fled,
Balm and com­fort for my fears,
Is the book my mo­ther read.

Refrain

Like a guest from realms above,
Soothing all one’s pain and pang,
How it thrills with Je­sus’ love,
Like some song the an­gels sang;
Tells me how my Sav­ior came,
How for me His blood was shed;
I will read it o’er again—
Blessèd book my mo­ther read.

Refrain