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On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross, |
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The emblem of suffering and shame; |
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And I love that old cross where the dearest and best |
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For a world of lost sinners was slain. |
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So I'll cherish the old rugged cross, |
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Till my trophies at last I lay down; |
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I will cling to the old rugged cross, |
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And exchange it some day for a crown. |
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O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world, |
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Has a wondrous attraction for me; |
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For the dear Lamb of God left His glory above |
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To bear it to dark Calvary. |
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So I'll cherish the old rugged cross, |
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Till my trophies at last I lay down; |
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I will cling to the old rugged cross, |
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And exchange it some day for a crown. |
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In that old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine, |
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A wondrous beauty I see, |
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For 'twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died, |
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To pardon and sanctify me. |
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So I'll cherish the old rugged cross, |
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Till my trophies at last I lay down; |
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I will cling to the old rugged cross, |
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And exchange it some day for a crown. |
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To the old rugged cross I will ever be true; |
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Its shame and reproach gladly bear; |
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Then He'll call me some day to my home far away, |
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Where His glory forever I'll share. |
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So I'll cherish the old rugged cross, |
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Till my trophies at last I lay down; |
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I will cling to the old rugged cross, |
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And exchange it some day for a crown. |
