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 Cross of
Christ my Lord
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'er such love and
sorrow meet
Or thorns compose so rich
a Crown
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
Thank God for Jesus Christ
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