Hymn 272 — When I survey the wondrous cross
| 272 | I. WATTS (1674-1748) | L.M. |
| 1 |
When I survey the wondrous cross On which the Lord of glory died, My richest gain I count but loss, And pour contempt on all my pride. | |
| 2 |
Far be the thought that I should boast, Save in the cross of Christ, my Lord; All the vain things that charm me most, I'd sacrifice them at His word. | |
| 3 |
There from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and love flowed 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 an off'ring far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all! | |