1 What glory gilds the sacred page,
Majestic like the sun!
It gives a light to ev'ry 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 a world of darkness shine
With beams of heav'nly day.

4 My soul rejoices to pursue
The paths of truth and love,
Till glory break upon my view
In brighter worlds above.