We love the good old Bi­ble,
The glo­ri­ous Word of God,
The lamp for those who travel
O’er all life’s drea­ry road.
The watch­word in life’s bat­tle,
The chart on life’s dark sea;
The beau­ti­ful, dear Bi­ble,
It shall our teach­er be.

Who would not love the Bi­ble,
So beau­ti­ful and wise?
Its teach­ings charm the sim­ple,
And point us to the skies.
Its sto­ries all so migh­ty
Of men so brave to see;
The beau­ti­ful, dear Bi­ble,
It shall our teach­er be.

But most we love the Bi­ble,
For there we child­ren learn
How Christ for us be­came a child,
Our hearts to Him to turn;
And how He bowed to sor­row,
That we His face might see,
The Bi­ble, O the Bi­ble,
It shall our teacher be.

Then we will hold the Bi­ble,
The glo­ri­ous book of God;
We’ll ne’er for­sake the Bi­ble
Through all life’s fu­ture road.
And when we lie a-dying,
Wherever that may be,
The beau­ti­ful, dear Bi­ble,
Shall still our solace be.