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.

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?

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.

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.

Love so amazing, so divine

demands my soul, my life, my all.

“May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.”

Isaac Watts. Public Domain

All songs covered by Christian Copyright Licensing (Europe) Ltd have been reproduced under CCL No. 543262.