1. There is a fountain fill'd with blood,
Drawn from Immanuel's veins,
And sinners plung'd beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains.

Chorus:
Oh precious fountain, cleansing stream,
Where All may plunge and be made clean;
All glory to my Saviour be,
Who shed His blood to ransom me.

2. The dying thief rejoic'd to see
That fountain in his day;
And there may I, tho' vile as he,
Wash all my sins away. [Chorus]

3. Thou dying Lamb! Thy precious blood,
Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransom'd Church of God
Are saved to sin no more. [Chorus]

4. Then in a nobler, sweeter song,
I'll sing Thy power to save,
When this poor, lisping stammering tongue
Is ransomed from the grave. [Chorus]