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
Thou dying Lamb, Thy precious blood shall never lose its power
Till all the ransomed church of God are saved to sin no more
Are saved to sin no more, are saved to sin no more
Till all the ransomed church of God are saved to sin no more
For 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
Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing Thy power to save
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave
Lies silent in the grave, lies silent in the grave
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave
Displayed with kind permission from Scripture Songs
