1 There is a fountain fill'd with blood
Drawn from Emmanuel'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 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, stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | There is a fountain filled with blood |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1871 |