Thy Word is like a gar­den, Lord,
With flow­ers bright and fair;
And ev­ery­one who seeks may pluck
A love­ly clus­ter there.
Thy Word is like a deep, deep mine,
And jew­els rich and rare
Are hid­den in its migh­ty depths
For ev­ery search­er there.

Thy Word is like a star­ry host:
A thou­sand rays of light
Are seen to guide the tra­vel­er
And make his path­way bright.
Thy Word is like an ar­mo­ry
Where sol­diers may re­pair,
And find, for life’s long bat­tle day,
All need­ful wea­pons there.

O may I love Thy pre­cious Word,
May I ex­plore the mine,
May I its frag­rant flow­ers glean,
May light up­on me shine!
O may I find my ar­mor there!
Thy Word my trus­ty sword,
I’ll learn to fight with ev­ery foe
The batt­le of the Lord.