1 There is a fountain filled 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, as vile as he,
Wash all my sins away.
3 Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransomed 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, stammering 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 formed 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 filled with blood |
Title: | There is a fountain filled with blood |
Publication Date: | 1909 |
Topic: | The Christian Festivals: Lent |
Notes: | Author from index: Cowper |