1 Come, thou fount of every blessing,
tune my heart to sing thy grace;
streams of mercy never ceasing,
call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious measure,
sung by flaming tongues above;
O the vast, the boundless treasure
of my God's unchanging love.
2 Here I make faith's affirmation:
thus far by thy help I've come,
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
wandering from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger,
interposed his precious blood.
3 O to grace how great a debtor
daily I'm constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;
here's my heart, O take and seal it,
seal it for thy courts above.
|First Line:||Come, thou fount of every blessing|
|Title:||Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing|
|Author:||Robert Robinson (1735-1790)|
|Topic:||Lent (season); Praise of God; Salvation/Redemption|
|Source:||A Repository of Sacred Music, Part Second, Harrisburg, 1813|