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When I survey the wondrous cross on which the Prince of glory died, my richest gain I count but loss.
Will your anchor hold in the storms of life, when the clouds unfold their wings of strife?
'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus, and to take Him at His word.
O Thou to whom, without reserve, my all I would resign, I ask for grace and faith to say, "Thy will, O Lord, not mine!"
Though on a bed of suffering I'm called a while to stay, my spirit looks with pleasure to that long-promised day.
There is no name so sweet on earth, no name so sweet in heaven.
Take my life and let it be consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in Thee.
