My God! I bless thee for thy word,
I clasp it to my breast;
Of all thy glorious gifts to man,
The noblest, and the best!
When I am idling in the way,
And danger stalks abroad,
It thunders in my startled ear—
“Prepare to meet thy God!”
Whene’er I stray, its beacon light
Shines through the gloom afar;
And when I turn the other way,
’Tis there—my polar star!
I glory in thy promises
When sorrows rend my breast,
And thus, when thinking on thy word,
My sorrows sink to rest.
In silent watches of the night
I sing upon my bed,
While gently, on its pillow’d rest,
Reclines my weary head.
Father! I’ll take thy blessed word,
And clasp it to my breast;
Of all thy glorious gifts to man,
The noblest, and the best!