"The Book!" Oh, Book of Books! Oh, Word of Words!
The only Book whose title is "The Lord's.”
Thy theme, "the Truth," "the Light," "the Life," "the Way,”
That leads from darkness to eternal day;
Thy mission, as thy subject, all divine,
Like heaven's bright sun, on every land to shine,
Where'er the guilty sons of Adam dwell,
Wherever reigns the power of death and hell:
To chase the darkness, and dispel the gloom,
To tell of victory o'er the yawning tomb,
Of the vast ransom for redemption paid,
The full, the rich atonement Jesus made,
When, bearing sin upon the accursed tree,
He died from guilt and judgment man to free.
"The Book," that opens heaven to our sight,
Reveals the Son of Man in glory bright,
At God's right hand exalted, till the day
He comes to take His Church from earth away,
To share His kingdom, and enjoy His love
Forever in His Father's house above.
“The Book," oh, blessed Book! what thousands there
Have found relief from anguish and despair!
The lost it tells of pardon full and free,
For such as I am, and for such as thee:
The pilgrim reads of heaven's bright repose,
And, full of hope, forgets his daily woes:
The tempted, suited promises console;
And pastures green refresh the hungry soul.
The mourner streams of richest comfort finds;
Wisdom divine illumes inquiring minds,
That, with a childlike meekness, at the feet
Of Jesus sit, to learn its lessons sweet.
What secrets hidden lie in every page;
What light it throws on every byegone age!
The future there, from mortal eye concealed,
Is to the servants of the Lord revealed.
Oh, how refreshing to the heart that sighs
O'er all th' unnumbered woes that meet the eyes,
And cause the sympathetic tear to flow
For all that sin and death have wrought below,
To search this blessed Book! for there we see
Grace reigns supreme to set the captive free.
Its mission, wide as human sin and need:
Oh, may we all combine its course to speed!
Herald of mercy to a ruined world,
Banner of peace to rebel man unfurled,
To north, to south, to eastern climes, and west,
The Book its message speeds, and still is blest.
The Afric reads, the Indian, bond and free,
The savage and the wise. O'er land and sea,
Mountain and vale,-in city, village, mart,
In every language, Book of Books, thou art:
God's mighty voice of grace, and truth, and life,
His balm for broken hearts, healer of strife
'Tween God and man, the harbinger of peace,
Bidding the tempests of the conscience cease.
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