When I am tired, the Bible is my bed; Or in the dark, the Bible is my light; When I am hungry, it is vital bread; Or fearful, it is armor for the fight. When I am sick, 'tis healing medicine; Or lonely, thronging friends I find therein. If I would work, the Bible is my tool; Or play, it is a harp of happy sound. If I am ignorant, it is my school; If I am sinking, it is solid ground. If I am cold, the Bible is my fire; And it is wings, if boldly I aspire. Should I be lost, the Bible is my guide; Or naked, it is raiment rich and warm. Am I imprisoned, it is ranges wide; Or tempest-tossed, a shelter from the storm. Would I adventure, 'tis a gallant sea; Or would I rest, it is a flowery lea. Does gloom oppress? The Bible is a sun. Or ugliness? It is a garden fair. Am I athirst? How cool its currents run! Or stifled? What a vivifying air! Since thus thou givest of thyself to me, How should I give myself, great Book, to thee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REVELATION AT CAP FERRAT by CLARENCE MAJOR THE MERCY OF LAZARUS by STEPHEN DOBYNS THE LIFE SO SHORT by EAMON GRENNAN NEW YEAR'S EVE by DAVID IGNATOW BUT NOW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON STREET-CRIES: 7. A SONG OF LOVE by SIDNEY LANIER ATELIER CEZANNE by CLARENCE MAJOR |