2 Celestial light it sheds To cheer this vale below; To distant lands its glory spreads, And streams of mercy flow. 3 True wisdom it imparts; Commands our hope and fear: O may we hide it in our hearts, And feel its influence there! 19 S. M. The books of nature and Scripture. Behold! the lofty sky Declares its maker, God; And all his starry works, on high, Proclaim his power abroad. 2 The darkness and the light Still keep their course the same; While night to day, and day to night, Divinely teach his name. 3 In every different land, Their general voice is known; They show the wonders of his hand, And orders of his throne. 4 Ye Christian lands! rejoice; Here he reveals his word; We are not left to nature’s voice, To bid us know the Lord. 20 7s. My Bible. My Bible! book divine! Precious treasure! thou art mine: Mine to tell me whence I came; Mine to teach me what I am; 2 Mine to chide me when I rove; Mine to show a Saviour’s love; Mine thou art to guide and guard; Mine to punish or reward; 3 Mine to comfort in distress, Suffering in this wilderness; Mine to show, by living faith, Man can triumph over death; 4 Mine to tell of joys to come, And the rebel sinner’s doom: O thou holy book divine! Precious treasure thou art mine! 21 8s, 7 & 4. Book of grace. Book of grace, and book of glory! Gift of God to age and youth; Wondrous in thy sacred story, Bright, bright with truth. 2 Book of love! in accents tender, Speaking unto such as we; May it lead us, Lord, to render All, all to thee. 3 Book of hope! the spirit sighing, Consolation finds in thee; As it hears the Saviour crying— “Come, come to me.” 4 Book of life! when we reposing, Bid farewell to friends we love Give us for the life then closing, Life, life above. 22 P. M. The word more precious than gold. Precious Bible! what a treasure Does the word of God afford! All I want for life or pleasure, Food and med’cine, shield and sword: Let the world account me poor, Having this I need no more. 2 Food to which the world’s a stranger, Here my hungry soul enjoys; Of excess there is no danger— Though 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.