Hymnal 199
1 There's a dear and precious book, Tho' it's worn and faded now,
Which recalls the happy days of long ago; When I stood at mother's knee,
With her hand upon my brow, And I heard her voice in gentle tones and low.
Blessed book, precious book, On thy dear old tear-stained leaves I love to look;
Thou art sweet day by day, As I walk the narrow way That leads at last to that bright home above.
2 As she read the stories o’er Of those mighty men of old,
Of Joseph and of Daniel and their trials, Of little David bold,
Who became a king at last, Of Satan and his many wicked wiles.
Blessed book, precious book, On thy dear old tear-stained leaves I love to look;
Thou art sweet day by day, As I walk the narrow way That leads at last to that bright home above.
3 There she read of Jesus' love, As he blest the children dear,
How he suffered, bled and died upon the tree; Of his heavy load of care,
Then she dried my flowing tear With her kisses as she said it was for me.
Blessed book, precious book, On thy dear old tear-stained leaves I love to look;
Thou art sweet day by day, As I walk the narrow way That leads at last to that bright home above.
4 Well, those days are past and gone, But their mem'ry lingers still,
And the dear old Book each day has been my guide; And I seek to do his will,
As my mother taught me then, And ever in my heart his words abide.
Blessed book, precious book, On thy dear old tear-stained leaves I love to look;
Thou art sweet day by day, As I walk the narrow way That leads at last to that bright home above.