when I survey the wondrous cross on which the prince of glory died my richest gain i count but loss and poor contempt on all my pride forbid it Lord that i should coast save in the d**h of Christ my God All the vain things that charm me most I sacrifice them to his blood see from his head his hands his feet sorrow and love flow mingled down did e're such love and sorrow meet or thorns compose to rich a crown? 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 when I survey the wondrous cross on which my savior died for me when i survey I'm willing to give up my life for thee