A Glory Gilds the Sacred Page

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.