There is a fountain filled with blood Drawn from Immanuels 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, though vile as he wash all my sins away Eer since by faith I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply Redeeming love has been my theme And shall be till I die Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood Shall never lose its power Till all the ransomed church of God Be saved to sin no more
fountain, thy, immanuels, shall, dying