Thy Word is like a garden, Lord,
With flowers bright and fair;
And ev'ry one who seeks may pluck
A lovely cluster there.
Thy Word is like a deep, deep mine;
And jewels rich are rare
Are hidden in its mighty depths
For ev'ry searcher there.
Thy Word is like a starry host:
A thousand rays of light
Are seen to guide the traveler,
And make his pathway bright.
Thy Word is like an armory,
Where soldiers may repair,
And find, for life's long battle day,
All needful weapons there.
O may I love thy precious Word,
May I explore the mine,
May I its fragrant flowers glean,
May light upon my shine.
O may I find my armor there,
Thy Word my trusty sword;
I'll learn to fight with ev'ry foe
The battle of the Lord.