There�s a picture fair and bright,
Hanging still on memory�s wall:
There I see my father take the Book divine;
Dear home faces gathered round,
As the shadows softly fall,
And a light from out the pages seems to shine.

Refrain

Dear old Book, precious Book,
On thy pages soiled and worn I love to look!
O thou balm for hearts that ache,
For my sainted mother�s sake,
Thou art dearer day by day, thou bless�d Book!

While I look, the pictures change,
And I see my mother�s face;
In her hand the Bible, worn and stained with tears;
But the light is shining still,
And within the hallowed place
There is comfort for earth�s griefs and doubts and fears.

Refrain

O the bless�d days of old,
When I felt my mother�s hand,
With its tender touch of love upon my head,
While the old, old, story sweet,
Which a child can understand,
From the pages of the Book divine she read.

Refrain

When I long for voices hushed,
And the touch of vanished hands,
In the darkness when death�s angel spreads his wing,
Let me turn to mother�s Book,
With its comforts and commands,
For the peace and hope its bless�d pages bring!

Refrain