Poetry and Praise #3

Bible, Book Divine

Holy Bible, book Divine,

Precious treasure, thou art mine;

Mine to tell me whence I came;

Mine to teach me what I am.

Mine to chide me when I rove,

Mine to shew a Saviour's love;

Mine art thou to guide my feet;

Mine to judge, condemn, acquit.

Mine to comfort in distress,

If the Holy Spirit bless;

Mine to shew by living faith,

Man can triumph over death.

Mine to tell of joys to come,

And the rebel sinner's doom;

Holy Bible, book Divine,

Precious treasure, thou art mine.

  —John Burton, Sr. (original lyrics)

Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against thee.  Psalm 119:11

Thy word is very pure: therefore thy servant loveth it.  Psalm 119:140

My Mother's Bible

This book is all that's left me now,

   Tears will unbidden start—

With faltering lip and throbbing brow

   I press it to my heart.

For many generations past,

   Here is our family tree;

My mother's hand this Bible clasped;

   She, dying, gave it me.

Ah! well do I remember those

   Whose names these records bear,

Who 'round the hearthstone used to close

   After the evening prayer,

And speak of what these pages said,

   In tones my heart would thrill!

Though they are with the silent dead

  Here are they living still!

My father read this holy book

   To brothers, sisters, dear;

How calm was my poor mother's look,

   Who loved God's word to hear

Her angel face—I see it yet!

   What thronging memories come!

Again that little group is met

   Within the halls of home!

Thou truest friend man ever knew,

   Thy constancy I've tried;

Where all were false, I found thee true,

   My counselor and guide.

The mines of earth no treasure give

   That could this volume buy;

In teaching me the way to live,

   It taught me how to die.

         —George P. Morris

Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever.  1 Peter 1:23

So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.  Romans 10:17

The Best of All

Blessed Bible, sacred treasure,

   Precious book, of all the best,

There is comfort never failing,

   And a calm abiding rest.

Read with reverence, and commit it,

   Verse by verse, and day by day;

'Tis the word that God has spoken,

   And it cannot pass away.

                 —Fanny Crosby

My Old Bible

Though the cover is worn,

And the pages are torn,

   And though places bear traces of tears,

Yet more precious than gold

Is this Book worn and old,

   That can shatter and scatter my fears.

This old Book is my guide,

'Tis a friend by my side,

   It will lighten and brighten my way;

And each promise I find

Soothes and gladdens the mind,

   As I read it and heed it each day.

To this Book I will cling,

Of its worth I will sing,

   Though great losses and crosses be mine;

For I cannot despair,

Though surrounded by care,

   While possessing this blessing Divine.

               —Anonymous