There is a fountain filled with blood,
Drawn from Immanuel’s veins;
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, tho vile as he,
Wash all my sins away.

Thou dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
Shall never lose it’s pow’r,
Till all the ransomed church of God
Are saved to sin no more.

Recordings none