My Old Faded Book

I have a worn and fad­ed book

With fin­ger prints on ev­ery page;

The Bi­ble which my mo­ther took

To guide her through her pil­grim­age.

Its pre­cious words she read to me

And then while kneel­ing down would pray

O Fa­ther

ev­er watch­ful be

O’er this

my child

lest he should stray.

Though ma­ny years have come and gone

Since mo­ther dear has passed away

I find its pro­mis­es to her

Are just the same to ev­en me.

To man­hood now I’ve old­er grown

My child­hood days have passed away;

I see life now as mo­ther did

Who trust­ed Je­sus ev­ery day.

Praise God

for Christ­ian mo­thers here

Tho’ aged and wrin­kled be their face

’Twas thro’ God’s love and mo­ther’s pray­ers

That I’m a sin­ner saved by grace.

This book

it tells me I am weak

It tells me I am prone to sin;

Then tells me of a Sav­ior dear

Who gave His life for sin­ful men.

It tells me of a Fa­ther’s love

His won­drous grace so rich and free

And why He gave His on­ly Son

To die up­on Mount Cal­va­ry.

It tells me of a ci­ty fair

With jew­eled walls and streets of gold;

Where liv­ing waters

crys­tal clear

Flow thro’ the pal­ace of the soul.

It says no sor­row there can come

Nor tears will ever dim the eye

That saints of ev­ery age and clime

Shall meet to­ge­ther by and by.

I love my worn and fad­ed book

More pre­cious ’tis to me than gold;

For now ’tis thro’ it I can look

And view the Sav­ior of my soul.

It led me up to Cal­va­ry

A sin­ner poor and weak and blind

Then from the cross came light to me

And love o’er­flowed this soul of mine.