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;

The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in His day;
I hope that blood was shed for me,
And washed my sins away.
And washed my sins a way, And washed my sins away;

Dear dying Lamb, Thy 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;

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;

When this poor lisping, stamm'ring tongue
Lies silent in the grave,
Then in a nobler, sweeter song
I'll sing Thy pow'r to save.
I'll sing Thy pow'r to save,
I'll sing Thy pow'r to save;