What glory gilds the sacred page,

Majestic like the sun!

It gives a light to every age—

It gives but borrows none.

2 The hand that gave it, still supplies

His gracious light and heat;

His truths upon the nations rise—

They rise, but never set.

3 Let everlasting thanks be thine

For such a bright display,

As makes the world of darkness shine

With beams of heavenly day.

4 My soul rejoices to pursue

The paths of truth and love,

Till glory breaks upon my view

In brighter worlds above.