Some of you will recognize this old hymn:
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.
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 a present far too small; love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.
My choir used to do a beautiful arrangement of this hymn that would bring people to tears. It’s one of my favorites, out of many. Thanks for reading!