125 When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

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 a tribute far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all.