<body> BEAUTIFUL MISTAKE

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  • Tuesday, January 16, 2007


    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.

    Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
    Save in the death of Christ my God:
    All the vain things that charm me most,
    I sacrifice them to his blood.

    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.

    I guess this is a beautiful mistake too...9:37 PM


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