| 1 |
There is no gain but by a loss; We cannot save but by the cross, The corn of wheat to multiply Must fall into the ground and die; O should a soul alone remain When it a hundredfold can gain? O should a soul alone remain When it a hundredfold can gain? |
| 2 |
Our souls are held by all they hold; Slaves still are slaves in chains of gold; To whatsoever we may cling, We make it a soul-chaining thing. Whether it be a life or land, And dear as our right eye or hand. Whether it be a life or land, And dear as our right eye or hand. |
| 3 |
Wherever you ripe fields behold, Waving to God their sheaves of gold, Be sure some corn of wheat has died, Some saintly soul been crucified; Someone has suffered, wept and prayed, And fought hell's legions undismayed. Someone has suffered, wept and prayed, And fought hell's legions undismayed. |