When I Survey The Wondrous Cross - Chris Rice

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

When I survey, when I survey the wondrous cross

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

When I survey, when I survey the wondrous cross

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?

When I survey, when I survey the wondrous cross

Were the whole realm of nature mine

That were a present far too small

Love so amazing, so divine

Demands my soul, my life, my all

When I survey, when I survey the wondrous cross

When I survey, when I survey the wondrous cross

When I survey, when I survey the wondrous cross

When I survey, when I survey the wondrous cross

When I survey, when I survey the wondrous cross

When I survey, when I survey the wondrous cross