What glory gilds the sacred page

What glory gilds the sacred page,
Majestic, like the sun!
It gives a light to every age;
It gives—but borrows none.

The power that gave it still supplies
The gracious light and heat:
Its truths upon the nations rise;
They rise—but never set.

Let everlasting thanks be thine
For such a bright display,
As makes a world of darkness shine
With beams of heavenly day.

My soul rejoices to pursue
The steps of him I love,
Till glory breaks upon my view
In brighter worlds above.