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 have I, as vile as he, washed all my sins away; 
Washed all my sins away, washed all my sins away; 
And there have I, as vile as he, washed all my sins away. 

E’er since by faith I saw the stream 
Your 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. 

Then in a nobler, sweeter song I’ll sing Your pow’r to save, 
when this poor lisping, stamm’ring tongue lies silent in the grave: 
lies silent in the grave, lies silent in the grave; 
when this poor lisping, stamm’ring tongue lies silent in the grave. 

Dear dying Lamb, Your precious blood shall never lose its pow’r; 
till all the ransomed church of God be saved to sin no more: 
be saved to sin no more, be saved to sin no more; 
till all the ransomed church of God be saved to sin no more.

-William Cowper