I have a worn and fad­ed book,
With fin­ger prints on ev­ery page;
The Bi­ble which my mo­ther took
To guide her through her pil­grim­age.
Its pre­cious words she read to me,
And then while kneel­ing down would pray,
O Fa­ther, ev­er watch­ful be,
O’er this, my child, lest he should stray.

Refrain

Though ma­ny years have come and gone,
Since mo­ther dear has passed away,
I find its pro­mis­es to her
Are just the same to ev­en me.

To man­hood now I’ve old­er grown,
My child­hood days have passed away;
I see life now as mo­ther did,
Who trust­ed Je­sus ev­ery day.
Praise God, for Chris­tian mo­thers here,
Tho’ aged and wrin­kled be their face,
’Twas thro’ God’s love and mo­ther’s pray­ers
That I’m a sin­ner saved by grace.

Refrain

This book, it tells me I am weak,
It tells me I am prone to sin;
Then tells me of a Sav­ior dear,
Who gave His life for sin­ful men.
It tells me of a Fa­ther’s love,
His won­drous grace so rich and free,
And why He gave His on­ly Son
To die up­on Mount Cal­va­ry.

Refrain

It tells me of a ci­ty fair,
With jew­eled walls and streets of gold;
Where liv­ing waters, crys­tal clear,
Flow thro’ the pa­lace of the soul.
It says no sor­row there can come,
Nor tears will ever dim the eye,
That saints of ev­ery age and clime,
Shall meet to­ge­ther by and by.

Refrain

I love my worn and fad­ed book,
More pre­cious ’tis to me than gold;
For now ’tis thro’ it I can look
And view the Sav­ior of my soul.
It led me up to Cal­va­ry,
A sin­ner poor and weak and blind,
Then from the cross came light to me,
And love o’er­flowed this soul of mine.

Refrain