Come and hear the grand old sto­ry,
Story of the ag­es past;
All earth’s an­nals far sur­pass­ing,
Story that shall ev­er last.

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Noblest, tru­est, old­est, new­est,
Fairest, rar­est, sad­dest, glad­dest,
That this earth has ev­er known.

Christ, the Fa­ther’s Son eter­nal,
Once was born, a Son of man;
He, who ne­ver knew be­gin­ning,
Here on earth a life be­gan.

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Here in Da­vid’s low­ly ci­ty,
Tenant of the man­ger-bed,
Child of ev­er­last­ing ag­es,
Mary’s in­fant, lays His head.

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There He lies, in migh­ty weak­ness,
David’s Lord and Da­vid’s Son;
Creature and Cre­at­or meet­ing,
Heav’n and earth con­joined in one.

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Here at Na­za­reth He dwell­eth,
’Mid the sin of sin­ful men;
Sorrowful, for­lorn, and hat­ed,
And yet hat­ing none again.

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Here in Ga­li­lee He wan­ders,
Through its teem­ing ci­ties moves,
Climbs its mount­ains, walks its wa­ters,
Blesses, com­forts, saves, and loves.

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Words of truth and deeds of kind­ness,
Miracles of grace and might,
Scatter frag­rance all around Him,
Shine with Heav’n’s most glo­ri­ous light.

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In Geth­se­ma­ne be­hold Him
In the ago­ny of pray­er;
Kneeling, plead­ing, groan­ing, bleed­ing,
Soul and bo­dy pros­trate there.

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All alone He wrest­les yon­der,
Close be­side Him stands the cup,
Bitterest cup that man e’er tast­ed,
Yet for us He drinks it up.

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In the Ro­man hall be­hold Him
Stand at Pi­late’s judg­ment-seat,
Mocked and beat­en,
Crowned and wound­ed;
Jew and Gen­tile join in hate.

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On to Gol­go­tha He hast­ens,
Yonder stands His cross of woe;
From His hands, and feet, and fore­head,
See the pre­cious life-blood flow.

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Sinless, He our sin is bear­ing,
All our sor­rows on Him lie,
And His stripes our wounds are heal­ing,
God, for man, con­sents to die.

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It is fin­ished! See His bo­dy
Laid alone in Jo­seph’s tomb;
’Tis for us He li­eth yon­der,
Prince of Light en­wrapt in gloom.

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But in vain the grave has bound Him,
Death has barred its gate in vain;
See, for us the Sav­ior ris­es,
See, for us He bursts the chain.

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Hear we then the grand old sto­ry,
True as God’s all-faith­ful Word,
Best of tid­ings to the guil­ty,
Of a dead and ris­en Lord.

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’Tis eter­nal life to know it,
Light and love are shin­ing there,
While we look, and gaze, and list­en,
All its joy and peace we share.

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Hear we then the grand old sto­ry,
And in list­en­ing learn the love,
Flowing through it to the guil­ty,
From our par­don­ing God ab­ove.

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Glory be to God the Fa­ther,
Glory be to God the Son,
Glory be to God the Spir­it,
Great Je­ho­vah, Three in One.

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