1 No more, dear Savior, will I boast
Of beauty, wealth, or loud applause;
The world has all its glories lost,
Amid the triumphs of the cross.
2 In every feature of thy face
Beauty her fairest charms displays;
Truth, wisdom, majesty and grace
Shine thence in sweetly mingled rays.
3 Thy wealth the power of thought transcends,
’Tis vast, immense, and all divine:
Thy empire, Lord, o’er worlds extends;
The sun, the moon, the stars are thine.
4 Yet (O how marvelous the sight!)
I see thee on a cross expire;
Thy Godhead veil'd in sable night;
And angels from the scene retire.
5 But, why from these sad scenes retreat?
Why with your wings your faces hide?
He ne'er appear'd so good, so great,
As when he bow'd his head and died.
6 The indignation of a God
On him avenging justice hurl'd:
Beneath the weight he firmly stood,
And nobly sav'd a falling world.
7 These triumphs of stupendous grace
Surprise, rejoice, and melt my heart;
Lord, at thy cross I stand and gaze,
Nor would I ever thence depart!
Source: A Selection of Hymns: from the best authors, intended to be an appendix to Dr. Watt's psalms and hymns. (1st Am. ed.) #CDLXXXI