There is a fountain filled with blood

There is a fountain filled with blood

Drawn from Immanuel’s veins;

And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,

Lose all their guilty stains:

Lose all their guilty stains,

Lose all their guilty stains;

And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,

Lose all their guilty stains.

The dying thief rejoiced to see

That fountain in his day;

And there may I, though vile as he,

Wash all my sins away:

Wash all my sins away,

Wash all my sins away;

And there may I, though vile as he,

Wash all my sins away.

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:

And shall be till I die,

And shall be till I die;

Redeeming love has been my theme,

And shall be till I die.

When this poor lisping, stammering tongue

Lies silent in the grave,

Then in a nobler, sweeter song,

I’ll sing Thy power to save:

I’ll sing Thy power to save,

I’ll sing Thy power to save;

Then in a nobler, sweeter song,

I’ll sing Thy power to save.