Verse 1
Teacher divine, we ask thy grace,
These sacred leaves t’ unfold:
Here in the gospel’s clearest glass,
Let us thy face behold.
Verse 2
Shew us thy Sire; for known to thee
The Father’s glories are:
The dread paternal majesty
Thou only canst declare.
Verse 3
Open the scriptures now; reveal
All which for us thou art:
Talk with us, Lord, and let us feel
The kindling in our heart.
Verse 4
In thee we languish to be found;
To catch thy words we bow;
We listen for the quick’ning sound,
Speak, Lord; we hear thee now.