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.

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 some day for a crown.

O that old rugged cross,

so despised by the world,

has a wondrous attraction for me;

for the dear Lamb of God

left his glory above

to bear it to dark Calvary.      || So I will ||

In that old rugged cross,

stained with blood so divine,

a wondrous beauty I see,

for ’twas on that old cross

Jesus suffered and died,

to pardon and sanctify me.       || So I will ||

To that old rugged cross

I will ever be true,

its shame and reproach gladly bear;

then he’ll call me some day

to my home far away, where his glory

forever I’ll share.        || So I will ||