1 Come, thou Fount of ev'ry blessing,
tune my heart to sing thy grace;
streams of mercy, never ceasing,
call for songs of loudest praise.
While the hope of endless glory
fills my heart with joy and love,
teach me ever to adore thee;
may I still thy goodness prove.
2 Here I raise my Ebenezer,
hither by thy help I'm come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
wand'ring from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger,
interposed his precious blood.
3 Oh, to grace how great a debtor
daily I'm constrained to be;
let that grace now like a fetter
bind my wand'ring heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it;
prone to leave the God I love.
Here's my heart, oh, take and seal it;
seal it for thy courts above.
|First Line:||Come, thou Fount of ev'ry blessing|
|Title:||Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing|
|Author:||Robert Robinson, 1735-1790|
|Topic:||Pentecost; Praise, Thanksgiving; Stewardship, Commitment|
|Source:||Wyeth's Repository of Sacred Music, Part II, 1813|