Precious Bible! What a Treasure

The word more precious than gold by John Newton


 * Precious Bible! what a treasure
 * Does the Word of God afford?
 * All I want for life or pleasure,
 * Food and med’cine, shield and sword:
 * Let the world account me poor,
 * Having this I need no more.


 * Food to which the world’s a stranger,
 * Here my hungry soul enjoys;
 * Of excess there is no danger,
 * Though it fills, it never cloys:
 * On a dying Christ I feed,
 * He is meat and drink indeed.


 * When my faith is faint and sickly,
 * Or when Satan wounds my mind,
 * Cordials, to revive me quickly,
 * Healing med’cines here I find:
 * To the promises I flee,
 * Each affords a remedy.


 * In the hour of dark temptation
 * Satan cannot make me yield;
 * For the Word of consolation
 * Is to me a mighty shield
 * While the scripture truths are sure,
 * From his malice I’m secure.


 * Vain his threats to overcome me,
 * When I take the Spirits’ sword;
 * Then with ease I drive him from me.
 * Satan trembles at the word:
 * ’Tis a sword for conquest made,
 * Keen the edge, and strong the blade.


 * Shall I envy then the miser
 * Doting on his golden store?
 * Sure I am, or should be, wiser,
 * I am rich, ’tis he is poor:
 * Jesus gives me in his word,
 * Food and med’cine, shield and sword.