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 charm 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 an offering far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | When I survey the wondrous cross |
Author: | Dr. Isaac Watts, 1674-1748 |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1917 |
Topic: | Christ: Love of; Consecration: Entire; The Godhead: The Son(5 more...) |