The Word of Truth’s a Spacious Field

The word of truth’s a spa­cious field

Adorned with frag­rant flow­ers;

A gold­en mine

where we may search

And make the trea­sure ours.

Here streams of milk and ho­ney flow

Divinely rich and free;

Here Christ un­veils His love­ly face

And bids us come and see.

Here’s liv­ing wa­ter

liv­ing bread

And more than an­gels’ fare;

Millions of souls have been sup­plied

And yet there’s much to spare.

Here

as up­on the tree of life

Fruits grow of va­ri­ous kind;

And as in famed Be­thes­da’s pool

We help and heal­ing find.

Come then

my soul

these truths at­tend

With hum­ble hope and fear;

Here search for Christ

the pearl of price

And thou shalt find Him here.

Then wide­ly spread His worth and fame

Let hea­thens hear His voice;

Oh send His word to ev­ery shore

And bid the earth re­joice.