The Spirit breathes upon the Word,

And brings the truth to sight;

Precepts and promises afford,

A sanctifying light.

A glory gilds the sacred page,

Majestic, like the sun:

It gives a light to every age,

It gives, but borrows none.

The Hand that gave it still supplies

The gracious light and heat.

Its truths upon the nations rise;

They rise, but never set.

Let everlasting thanks be Thine

For such a bright display,

As makes a world of darkness shine

With beams of heavenly day.

My soul rejoices to pursue

The steps of Him I love,

Till glory breaks upon my view

In brighter worlds above.

Wlliam Cowper (1731-1800)