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.

The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day;
And there have I, as vile as he,
Washed all my sins away.

Dear dying Lamb! Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power
Till all the ransomed Church of God
Be saved, to sin no more.

E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream
Thy wounds supplied for me,
Redeeming love has been my theme,
And shall for ever be.

Soon, in a nobler, sweeter song,
I’ll sing Thy power to save,
And with the heavenly, blood-bought throng
My palm of victory wave.

Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared,
Unworthy though I be,
For me a blood-bought, free reward,
A golden harp for me.

‘Tis strung and tuned for endless years,
And formed by power divine,
To sound in God the Father’s ears
No other Name than Thine.