1 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,
Lost all their guilty stains,
And sinners plunged beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains.

2 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.

3 Ere 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.

4 Then in a nobler, sweeter song,
I'll sing Thy power 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.