When I survey the wondrous cross
1
When I survey the wondrous crossOn which the Prince of glory died,My richest gain I count but loss,And pour contempt on all my pride.
2
See, from his head, his hands, his feet,Sorrow and love flow mingled down;Did e'er such love and sorrow meet?Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
3
Since I, who was undone and lost,Have pardon through his name and word;Forbid it, then, that I should boast,Save in the cross of Christ, my Lord.
4
Were the whole realm of nature mine,That were a tribute far too small;Love so amazing, so divine,Demands my life, my soul, my all.