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 Were the whole realm of nature mine That were an offering far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my heart, my life, my all!