When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Price of Glory died;
My richest gain I count but loss
And pour contempt on all my pride.
See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down;
Did e'r such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
Chorus:
O the wonderful Cross, Oh the wonderful Cross;
Bids me come and die, and find that I may truly live.
Oh the wonderful Cross, Oh the wonderful Cross;
All who gather here by grace draw near and bless your name
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an off'ring far too small:
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all. |