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| When I Survey |
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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. |
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| 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. |
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| 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? |
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| 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. |
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