When I Survey the Wondrous Cross
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.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the d**h of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I've sacrificed them to His blood.
The cross by faith I see
Within its shadow I will hide
His blood avails for me
For me the Prince of Glory died
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my life, my soul, my all.