The Wondrous Cross

As we move toward Good Friday take a moment, pause and reflect on the theological depth and artistic beauty of this old hymn by Puritan, Issac Watts.

“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.

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.

See from his head, his hands, his feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down;
Did e’re such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were offering far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.”