Esteeming the Bible

THIS holy book I’d rather own,

Than all the gold and gems

That e’er in monarchs’ coffers shone,

Than all their diadems.

Nay, were the seas one chrysolite,

The earth one golden ball,

And diadems all the stars of night,

This book outweighs them all.

Ah, no, the soul ne’er found relief

In glittering hoards of wealth;

Gems dazzle not the eye of grief,

Gold cannot purchase health.

But here a blessed balm appears

To heal the deepest woe,

And those who read this book in tears,

Their tears shall cease to flow.