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William Walsham How
O Word of God incarnate, O Wisdom from on high, O Truth, unchanged, unchanging, O Light of our dark sky, we praise Thee for the radiance that from the hallowed page, a lantern to our footsteps, shines on from age to age.
The church from her dear Master received the gift divine, and still that light she lifteth o'er all the earth to shine. It is the golden casket, where gems of truth are stored; it is the heav'n-drawn picture Of Christ, the living Word.
It floateth like a banner before God's host unfurled; it shineth like a beacon above the darkling world. It is the chart and compass that o'er life's surging sea, 'mid mists and rocks and quicksands, still guides, O Christ, to Thee.
O make Thy Church, dear Savior, a lamp of burnished gold, to bear before the nations Thy true light as of old. O teach Thy wand'ring pilgrims by this, their path to trace, 'til, clouds and darkness ended, they see Thee face to face.