When I survey the wondrous cross (African)
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1. 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.
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 through his blood.
3. See, from his head, his hands, his feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down! Did ever such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown?
4. 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.
Words: Isaac Watts, Hymns and Spiritual Songs, 1707 Tune: African hymn tune
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