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Wondrous Cross (When I Survey)
Benjamin William Hastings
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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
Except in the death of Christ, my God
All the vain things that charm me most
I'd lay them down for Him alone
Oh, what amazing grace, what a gift of love
That my debt was paid by His precious blood
Where is my guilt, my shame? I can't find them anymore
Not when I survey the wondrous cross
See from His head, His hands, His feet
Sorrow and love flow mingled down
How could such love and sorrow meet
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
Oh, what amazing grace, what a gift of love
That my debt was paid by His precious blood
Where is my guilt, my shame? I can't find them anymore
Not when I survey the wondrous cross
Not when I survey the wondrous cross
Oh, the wondrous cross
Thank You for the cross
Should all the world be somehow mine
That's still 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
Oh, what amazing grace, what a gift of love
That my debt was paid by His precious blood
Where is my guilt, my shame? I can't find them anymore
Not when I survey the wondrous cross
Oh, what amazing grace, what a gift of love
That my debt was paid by His precious blood
Where is my guilt, my shame? I can't find them anymore
Not when I survey the wondrous cross
Not when I survey the wondrous cross
Not when I survey the wondrous cross