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.Гəлбим Һəр Ан Sing, O Sing, This Blessed Morn Можно только представить Nu ma lăsa să fiu pierdut wǒ de xīn yǐ méng shén de zhù fú kẖdẖny llmdy̱ ạlbʿyd Бютюн Халкларън Юмиди Дүнјада дадмадығым бəнзəрсиз севҝи вердин Who is the king of the jungle تأمل
Song not available - connect to internet to try again?