1.

Precious Bible, what a treasure,

Does the word of God afford!

All I want for life or pleasure,

Food or medicine, shield or sword.

Let the world account me poor,

Having this, I want no more.

2.

Food to which the world's a stranger,

Here my hungry soul enjoys;

Of excess there is no danger,

Though it fills, it never cloys.

On a dying Christ I feed,

He is meat and drink indeed.