Verse 1
F
When I survey the wondrous cross
F                             C
On which the Prince of Glory died
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My richest gain I count but loss
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And pour contempt on all my pride

Verse 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

Verse 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

Verse 3
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