On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross, the

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. 

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. 

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.