4 In the hour of dark temptation, Satan can not make me yield; For the word of consolation Is to me a mighty shield: While the scripture truths are sure, From his malice I’m secure. 5 Vain his threats to overcome me, When I take the Spirit’s sword; Then, with ease, I drive him from me; Satan trembles at the word: ’Tis a sword for conquest made, Keen the edge, and strong the blade. 6 Shall I envy, then, the miser, Doating on his golden store? Sure I am, or should be, wiser; I am rich—’tis he is poor: Jesus gives me in his word, Food and med’cine, shield and sword. 23 12s & 11s. The family Bible. How painfully pleasing the fond recollection Of youthful connections and innocent joy, When blessed with parental advice and affection, Surrounded with mercies—with peace from on high! I still view the chairs of my father and mother, The seats of their offspring as ranged on each hand; And that richest of books which excelled every other, The family Bible that lay on the stand: The old-fashioned Bible, the dear blesséd Bible, The family Bible that lay on the stand. 2 That Bible, the volume of God’s inspiration, At morn and at evening could yield us delight; And the prayer of our sire was a sweet invocation For mercy by day and for safety through night; Our hymn of thanksgiving with harmony swelling, All warm from the heart of the family band, Has raised us from earth to that rapturous dwelling Described in the Bible that lay on the stand: The old-fashioned Bible, the dear, blesséd Bible, The family Bible that lay on the stand. 3 Ye scenes of tranquillity, long have we parted, My hopes almost gone, and my parents no more: In sorrow and sadness I live broken-hearted, And wander unknown on a far distant shore; Yet how can I doubt a dear Saviour’s protection, Forgetful of gifts from his bountiful hand! O let me with patience receive his correction, And think of the Bible that lay on the stand: The old-fashioned Bible, the dear, blesséd Bible, The family Bible that lay on the stand. GOD: HIS BEING AND PERFECTIONS. 24 L. M. Great is the Lord. Praise ye the Lord! ’tis good to raise Our hearts and voices in his praise: His nature and his works invite To make this duty our delight. 2 Great is the Lord! and great his might, And all his glories infinite: His wisdom vast, and knows no bound; A deep where all our thoughts are drowned. 3 He loves the meek, rewards the just, Humbles the wicked in the dust, Melts and subdues the stubborn soul, And makes the broken spirit whole.