Thy Word, O Lord, like
gentle dews,
Falls soft on hearts that
pine;
Lord, to Thy garden ne�er
refuse
This heavenly balm of Thine.
Watered by Thee, let every
tree
Then blossom to Thy praise,
By grace of Thine bear fruit
divine
Through all the coming days.
Thy Word is like a flaming
sword,
A wedge that cleaveth stone;
Keen as a fire, so burns Thy
Word,
And pierceth flesh and bone;
Let it go forth o�er all the
earth
To cleanse our hearts
within,
To show Thy power in Satan�s
hour,
And break the night of sin.
Thy Word, a wondrous
guiding star,
On pilgrim hearts doth rise,
Leads those to God who dwell
afar,
And makes the simple wise.
Let not its light e�er sink
in night,
But in each spirit shine,
That none may miss Heaven�s
final bliss,
Led by Thy light divine.