Gems

I open it, my fingers trace the lines that Wesley’s, Moody’s, Spurgeon’s eyes have scanned,
Beneath my fingertips a promise shines, a diamond unearthed by my seeking hand,
A gem that countless saints have touched before and left among this jewel casket store.
I searched as one who searches long for gold, and oh what gleaming nuggets I unearthed.
All that my seeking heart and hands can hold I gather, and I know their precious worth,
And strange, the vein has never failed, though man has mined its channel since the world began.
The Holy Book, that gives its wealth unpriced to every seeker after God and Christ.