Blessed Be the Fountain

Blessed be the Fountain of blood,

To a world of sinners revealed:

Blessed be the dear Son of God;

Only by His stripes we are healed.

Tho' I've wandered far from His fold,

Bringing to my heart pain and woe,

Wash me in the blood of the Lamb,

And I shall be whiter than snow.

Thorny was the crown that He wore,

And the cross His body o'ercame;

Grievous were the sorrows He bore,

But He suffered thus not in vain.

May I to that Fountain be led,

Made to cleanse my sins here below;

Wash me in the blood that He shed,

And I shall be whiter than snow.

Father, I have wandered from Thee,

Often has my heart gone astray:

Crimson do my sins seem to me--

Water cannot wash them away.

Jesus, to that Fountain of Thine,

Leaning on Thy promise I go:

Cleanse me by Thy washing divine,

And I shall be whiter than snow.