歌词
There is a fountain filled with blood
Drawn from Immanuel's veins;
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty strains.
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.
Then in a nobler, sweeter song
I'll sing Thy power to save,
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
Lies silent in the grave.
Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared
Unworthy though I be,
For me a blood-bought free reward,
A golden harp for me.
'Tis strung and tuned for endless years
And from'd by pow'r divine,
To sound in God the Father's ears,
No other name but Thine.
Amen.