NE MEKPƆ NUKU TITSOGA LA

Eʋegbe

Ne mekpɔ nuku titsoga Si ŋu ŋ'tikɔkɔe Fia vi ku ɖo Nye nu xɔasi'o zu nububu 'Ye nye dada zu nu ƒuƒlu.

English

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.

Eʋegbe

Mega na maƒo adegbe o Negbe nye xɔla ƒe ku ŋu ko Yaka nu si'o blenam ɖaa la Metsɔ'o sãvɔ ɖe ƒe ʋua me.

English

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.

Eʋegbe

Kpɔ eƒe ta, asi'o kpl' afɔ Veve kple lɔlɔ̃ ƒoƒu dza Ðe lɔlɔ̃ kple veve ƒoƒua? Alo ŋua zu fiakuku xɔasia?

English

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?

Eʋegbe

Ne xexeame asua si nye Anye nunana sue tɔ nam Lɔlɔ̃ wɔnuku tso dziƒo Bia nye luυɔ, kple nye agbe.

English

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.