Friday, 3 April 2015

Good Friday

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 cross 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'er such love and sorrow meet.
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

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

Isaac Watts

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1 comment:

  1. Thank you for posting this! Have a blessed Easter weekend!