Verse 1:When I survey the wondrous Cross,
On which the prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.
Verse 2:Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the Cross of Christ my God;
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.
Verse 3: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?
Verse 4:His dying crimson, like a robe,
Spread o'er His body on the tree,
Then am I dead to all the globe,
And all the globe is dead to me.
Verse 5:Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an offering, far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.