| |
| I Love To Tell The Story |
| |
| I love to tell the story |
| Of unseen things above, |
| Of Jesus and His glory, |
| Of Jesus and His love. |
| I love to tell the story, |
| Because I know ’tis true; |
| It satisfies my longings |
| As nothing else can do. |
| |
| I love to tell the story, |
| ’Twill be my theme in glory |
| To tell the old, old story |
| Of Jesus and His love. |
| |
| I love to tell the story; |
| More wonderful it seems |
| Than all the golden fancies |
| Of all my golden dreams, |
| I love to tell the story, |
| It did so much for me; |
| And that is just the reason |
| I tell it now to thee. |
| |
| I love to tell the story; |
| ’Tis pleasant to repeat |
| What seems each time I tell it, |
| More wonderfully sweet. |
| I love to tell the story; |
| For some have never heard |
| The message of salvation |
| From God’s own holy Word. |
| |
| I love to tell the story; |
| For those who know it best |
| Seem hungering and thirsting |
| To hear it like the rest. |
| And when, in scenes of glory, |
| I sing the new, new song, |
| ’Twill be the old, old story, |
| That I have loved so long. |
| |
| |