W. Cowper
THERE is a fountain filled with blood,
Drawn from Immanuel’s veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains.
I do believe, I will believe
That Jesus died for me;
That on the cross He shed His blood,
From sin to set me free.
2
The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day,
And there have I, though vile as he,
Washed all my sins away.
3
Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransomed 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.