My Mother's Bible

Verse 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.

Chorus

Blessed book, precious book, On thy dear old tear-stained leaves I love to look; Thou art sweeter day by day, As I walk the narrow way That leads at last to that bright home above.

Verse 2

As she reads 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 with His many wicked wiles.

Verse 3

Then 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 tears With her kisses as she said it was for me.

Verse 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.