On which the prince of glory died
And poor contempt on all my pride
Save in the death of Christ
All the vain things that charm me most
Sorrow and love flow mingled down
Did e're such love and sorrow meet
Or thorns compose to rich a crown?
Were the whole realm of nature mine
That were a present far too small
The wondrous cross on which my savior died for me
When i survey I'm willing to give up my life for thee