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

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?

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