How dear to my heart is the sto­ry of old,
The sto­ry that ev­er is new,
The mes­sage that saints of all ag­es have told,
The mes­sage so ten­der and true.

Refrain

The sto­ry that ne­ver grows old,
Tho’ ov­er and ov­er ’tis told;
The sto­ry so dear, bring­ing Hea­ven so near,
Sweet sto­ry that ne­ver grows old.

It came to my heart when, all fet­tered by sin,
I sat in the pri­son of doubt;
Like an­gel of old, the glad sto­ry came in,
And led me tri­um­phan­tly out.

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It comes to my soul when the tempt­er is nigh
With snares for my way-wea­ry feet;
It tells of the Rock that is high­er than I,
And leads to its bliss­ful re­treat.

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When sor­row is mine, and on pil­lows of stone
My ach­ing head seeks for re­pose,
This story brings com­fort and peace from the throne,
My des­ert blooms forth like the rose.

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When down in the val­ley and sha­dow of death,
I enter the gloom of the grave,
I’ll tell the old sto­ry with life’s lat­est breath,
Of Christ and His pow­er to save.

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