#88 When I Survey The Wondrous Cross

1. When I sur-vey the cross, On which the Prince of glo-ry died, My rich-est gain I count but loss, And pour con- tempt on all my pride. 2. For-bid it, Lord, that I should boast, Save in the death of Christ, my God; All the vain things that charm me most, I sac-ri-fice them to His blood. 3. See, from His head, His hands, His feet, Sor-row and love flow min-gled down; Did e'er such love and sor-row meet, Or thorns com-pose so rich a crown? 4. Were the whole realm of na-ture mine, That were a pres-ent far too small; Love so a-maz-ing, so di-vine, De-mands my soul, my life, my all.