Sunday Hymnary: “My Grandfather’s Bible” by P.P. Bliss (1838-1876)

The Sabbath day-sweet day of rest-
Was drawing to a close;
The summer breeze went murmuring by,
To lull me to repose;
I took my father’s Bible down-
His father’s gift to him-
A treasure rare, beyond compare,
Though soiled the page, and dim.

“Old friend,” I said, “if thou couldst tell,
What would thy memories be?”
And from the Book there seemed to come
This evening reverie:
“Good will to men, Peace be to thee!
My mission aye hath been,
To tell the love of Him who died
To save a world from sin.

“A hundred years ago I sailed,
With those who sail no more,
Through perils dread; by land and sea,
I reached New England’s shore;
There, on a soul-worn, faithful band
This soothing psalm did fall:
Lord, Thou hast been our dwelling place,
In generations all.

“Year after year, in temples rude,
Upon the desk I lay,
To teach of Him, the Great High Priest;
The Life, the Truth, the Way.
And multitudes who listened there
To God’s life-giving word,
Are resting from their labors now,
‘For ever with the Lord.’

“Anon a lowly home I found,
But love and peace were there…
The children with the father read,
And knelt with him in prayer;
And through the valley, as one passed,
I heard her sweetly sing:
‘O Grave, where is thy victory?
O Death, where is thy sting?’

“Hold fast the faith,” the old Book said;
“Thy father’s God adore…;
And on the ‘Rock of Ages’ rest
The soul forever more.”
“Amen,” said I, “by grace I will,
Till at His feet we fall,
And join the everlasting song,
And crown Him Lord of All.
We’ll join the everlasting song,
And crown Him Lord of All.”

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