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.
2 Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
Save in the death of Christ, my God;
All the vain things that harm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.
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?
4 Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a tribute far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all!
|First Line:||When I survey the wondrous cross|
|Title:||When I Survey the Wondrous Cross|
|Author:||Isaac Watts, 1674-1748|
|Topic:||Holy Cross Day|
|Adapter:||Edward Miller, 1731-1807|
|Source:||The Worshipbook: Services and Hymns, 1972 (Setting); Second Supplement to Psalmody in Miniature, London, 1778|