On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross | |
The emblem of suffering and shame | |
And I love that old cross where the dearest and best | |
For a world of lost sinners was slain. | |
Chorus: | |
So, I'll cherish the old rugged cross | |
Till my trophies at last I lay down | |
I will cling to the old rugged cross | |
And exchange it someday for a crown |