1 There is a precious volume
All finger-worn and old,
In the little log cabin by the sea;
It is the old, old Bible,
More precious now than gold,
’Tis the Bible that my mother gave to me.
Refrain:
’Tis the old precious Bible, blessèd Bible,
That she read in the cabin by the sea;
’Tis the old fashioned Bible,
The old precious Bible,
’Tis the Bible that my mother gave to me.
2 How often I have listened
At the tempest howl and rave,
Round that little log cabin by the sea,
While my mother read of Jesus
Who walked upon the wave,
How Jesus calmed the stormy Galilee. [Refrain]
3 How often, O how often,
She read the glowing word,
Read a message from the precious word of God;
It told of faithful Daniel
Who trusted in the Lord,
While she led me in the pathway that he trod. [Refrain]
4 There is no other volume
So precious as this book;
It tells me how in living how to die;
It tells me of that city,
O wondrous, wondrous book,
And that I’ll meet the loved ones by and by. [Refrain]
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #12338
W. C. Hafley, author, composer and teacher; born in McMinn County, Tenn., Sept. 28th, 1839; educated in the common schools of his native county, but being a great lover of books, earnestly sought to improve himself by the reading of books, spending his evenings studying "Kirkam's Grammar" and the Bible, while listening to his father playing "Arkansaw Traveler," "Fisher's Hornpipe," etc., on a well-worn violin; served in the Confederate Army, but so well had he spent his time with his books in his tent that on his return he was called to take charge of a school, which profession he followed for fifteen years, and in 1883 was elected superintendent of schools in his native county; attended a session of the S.N.M.I., held at Dalton, Ga., the y… Go to person page >
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