When I Survey the Wondrous Cross 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. Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast, Save in the d**h of Christ my God! All the vain things that charm me most, I've sacrificed them to His blood. The cross by faith I see Within its shadow I will hide His blood avails for me For me the Prince of Glory died Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my life, my soul, my all.