There is
a Book
that all
may
read,
[
or
There is
a Book,
who runs
may
read,]
Which
heav�nly
truth
imparts,
And all
the lore
its
scholars
need,
Pure
eyes and
Christian
hearts.
The
works of
God
above,
below,
Within
us and
around,
Are
pages in
that
Book, to
show
How God
Himself
is
found.
The
glorious
sky,
embracing
all,
Is like
the
Maker�s
love,
Wherewith
encompassed,
great
and
small
In peace
and
order
move.
The
moon
above,
the
Church
below,
A
wondrous
race
they
run;
But each
their
radiance,
all
their
glow,
Each
borrows
of its
Sun.
The
Savior
lends
the
light
and heat
That
crown
His holy
hill;
The
saints,
like
stars,
around
His seat
Perform
their
courses
still.
The
dew of
Heav�n
is like
Thy
grace,
It
steals
in
silence
down;
But
where it
lights,
the
favored
place
By
richest
fruits
is
known.
One
Name,
above
all
glorious
names,
With its
ten
thousand
tongues
The
everlasting
sea
proclaims,
Echoing
angelic
songs.
The
raging
fire,
the
roaring
wind,
Thy
boundless
power
display,
But in
the
gentler
breeze
we find
The
Spirit�s
viewless
way.
Two
worlds
are
ours:
�tis
only sin
Forbids
us to
descry
The
mystic
heaven
and
earth
within,
Plain as
the sea
and sky.
Thou,
Who hast
giv�n me
eyes to
see,
And love
this
sight so
fair,
Give me
a heart
to find
out
Thee,
And read
Thee
everywhere.