The Old-Fashioned Bible

How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood         That now but in mem'ry I sadly review;      The old meeting-house at the edge of the wildwood,         The rail fence, and horses all tethered thereto;      The low, sloping roof, and the bell in the steeple,         The doves that came fluttering out overhead      As it solemnly gathered the God-fearing people         To hear the old Bible my grandfather read.          The old-fashioned Bible -             The dust-covered Bible -         The leathern-bound Bible my grandfather read.      The blessed old volume! The face bent above it -         As now I recall it - is gravely severe,      Though the reverent eye that droops downward to love it         Makes grander the text through the lens of a tear,      And, as down his features it trickles and glistens,         The cough of the deacon is stilled, and his head      Like a haloed patriarch's leans as he listens         To hear the old Bible my grandfather read.          The old-fashioned Bible -             The dust-covered Bible -         The leathern-bound Bible my grandfather read.      Ah! who shall look backward with scorn and derision         And scoff the old book though it uselessly lies      In the dust of the past, while this newer revision         Lisps on of a hope and a home in the skies?      Shall the voice of the Master be stifled and riven?         Shall we hear but a tithe of the words He has said,      When so long He has, listening, leaned out of Heaven         To hear the old Bible my grandfather read?          The old-fashioned Bible -             The dust-covered Bible -         The leathern-bound Bible my grandfather read.