When I survey the wondrous cross

When I survey the wondrous cross
on which the Prince of glory died,
my richest gain I count as loss,
and pour contempt on all my pride.

2. Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
save in the cross of Christ my God;
the very 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:
when did such love and sorrow meet,
or thorns compose so rich a crown?

4. His lifeblood, like a crimson robe,
clothes all his body on the tree:
then I am dead to all the globe,
and all the globe is dead to me!

5. 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!