Verse 1
When I survey the wonderous
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 death 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 soul. my life, my[all.
Isaac Watts.