I love to sing of Jesus,
The story all so true,
To me most sweet and precious-
The old, but ever new:
He came from brightest glory,
From radiant courts on high;
How matchless is the story
Of Him who came to die!

The Babe in Bethlehem’s manger,
The lowly One on earth,
Rejected and a Stranger-
Few cared to know His worth!
My soul would now recall Him,
In all His perfect love,
Who even as Calvary’s Victim
Its wondrous depths could prove.

‘Twas there my Saviour suffered,
And tasted death for me;
Yes there the work He finished
That sets me ever free.
My sins all laid upon Him,
The wrath and judgement borne,
The power of Satan broken,
In Jesus’ death of scorn!

And now the Lord is risen,
His grief and travail o’er,
Seated in highest heaven,
Alive to die no more.
And soon for me He’s coming
To take me Home above,
Where still I’ll sing the story
Of Jesus and His love.