Sunday Hymn: There Is a Fountain Filled With Blood

There is a fount­ain filled with blood
Drawn from Em­ma­nu­el’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, though vile as he,
Washed all my sins away.
Washed all my sins away,
Washed all my sins away;
And there have I, though 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.
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.

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.

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.

Lord, I be­lieve Thou hast pre­pared,
Unworthy though I be,
For me a blood bought free re­ward,
A gold­en harp for me!
A gold­en harp for me,
A gold­en harp for me;
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 but Thine;
No oth­er name but Thine,
No other name but Thine;
To sound in God the Fa­ther’s ears
No oth­er name but Thine.

—William Cowper