O let me tell it once again,
The story of His love,
Who came to seek and save the lost,
And guide them safe above.

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O tell the story once again,
The story of His love;
The story that with rapture fills
The boundless realms above.

He bore our frail humanity,
Our Brother He became,
That He, upon the blood-stained cross,
Might bear our sin and shame.

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Come unto Me, His tender call;
The Spi­rit doth entreat,
The Bride, the Church, re-echoes, Come;
Let each the call repeat.

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For whosoever will may come—
Exhaustless the supply—
And, from life’s ev­er­last­ing fount,
May drink and ne­ver die.

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