1 There is a fountain fill'd with blood
Drawn from Immanuel's veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains.
2 The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day;
And there may I, though vile as he,
Wash all my sins away!
3 Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransom'd church of God
Be saved to sin no more.
4 E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.
5 Then, in a nobler, sweeter song,
I'll sing Thy power to save;
When this poor lisping, stamm'ring tongue
Lies silent in the grave.
6 Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared
(Unworthy though I be)
For me a blood-bought free reward,
A golden harp for me!
7 'Tis strung and tuned for endless years,
And form'd by power divine;
To sound in God the Father's ears
No other name but Thine.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | There is a fountain fill'd with blood |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1870 |
Topic: | Atonement; Christ: Redeemer of mankind; Lamb of God(4 more...) |
Notes: | Author from index: Cowper |