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.

E’er since by faith I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme
And shall be ‘til I die:
And shall be ‘til I die,
And shall be ‘til I die;
Redeeming love has been my theme
And shall be ‘til I die.

Then in a nobler, sweeter song
I’ll sing Thy 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, Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,
As all the ransomed Church of God
Be saved to sin no more:
Be saved to sin no more,
Be saved to sin no more;
As all the ransomed Church of God
Be saved to sin no more.