A glory gilds the sacred page, Majestic like the sun; It gives a light to every age; It gives, but borrows none. The Spirit breathes upon the Word And brings the truth to sight; Precepts and promises afford A sanctifying light. The hand that gave it still supplies The gracious light and heat; His truths upon the nations rise; They rise, but never set. Let everlasting thanks be Thine For such a bright display. As makes a world of darkness shine With beams of heavenly day. My soul rejoices to pursue The steps of Him I love, Till glory breaks upon my view In brighter worlds above.
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