The book that our dear village parson laid there;
In fancy, I see the good man at the door,
In fancy, behold him, still bending in prayer.
That "old-fashioned Bible," I ne'er can forget,
That blessed old Book, with its holy command;
That "old-fashioned Bible," I see it there yet—
That dear blessed Book, on my Grandmother's stand.
Oh, the world it may boast of its beauty and art,
And Grandeur explore the dark depths of the tide;
But the Past, with its treasures, can gladden the heart