Precious Bible, What a Treasure!

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Precious Bible! what a treasure
Does the Word of God afford!
All I want for life or pleasure,
Food and tonic, shield and sword;
Let the world account me poor-
Having this I need no more.

Food to which the world’s a stranger,
Here my hungry soul is filled;
Of excess there is no danger,
I am gorged yet never ill;
On a dying Christ I feed,
He is meat and drink indeed!

When my faith is faint and sickly
Or when Satan wounds my mind-
Tonics to revive me quickly,
Healing medicines I find;
To the promises I flee,
Each affords a remedy.

In the hour of dark temptation
Satan cannot 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.

Vain his threats to overcome me
When I take the Spirits’ 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.

Text: John Newton (1725-1807), Edited by David Ward © 2008
Tune: ALL SAINTS OLD, Darmstadt Gesangbuch, 1698


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