Tell me the old, old story,
Of
unseen things above,
Of
Jesus and His glory,
Of
Jesus and His love;
Tell
me the story simply,
As
to a little child,
For
I am weak and weary,
And
helpless and defiled.
2
Tell
me the story softly,
With
earnest tones and grave;
Remember
I'm the sinner
Whom
Jesus came to save;
Tell
me the story always,
If
you would really be,
In
any time of trouble,
A
comforter to me.
3
Tell
me the same old story,
When
you have cause to fear
That
this world's empty glory
Is
costing me too dear;
Yes,
and when that world's glory Is
dawning
on my soul,
Tell
me the old, old story:
"Christ
Jesus makes thee whole."