There Is A Fountain

"There is a Fountain" was written by William Cowper in 1772. He was a poet and hymnist who suffered from emotional problems all of his life. His father was a rector and a chaplain for King George II, his mother Ann died in childbirth with his younger brother when William was six years old; her death deeply affected William’s life. He lived a life with many emotional problems. William grew to love reading and his love for Latin was put to use in writing and translating, both lifelong skills.

There is a Fountain: history behind the words and author William Cowper. Suffering many years from emotional problems, Cowper penned the famous hymn after making peace with the Lord. frogslilypad.net

There is a Fountain

William was pressed to study law while growing up, but he never really applied himself for the public life. Several times, William was institutionalized because of depression and insanity. It wasn’t until after spending time healing, under the watchful eye of John Newton (Amazing Grace), when William read Zechariah 13:1 and made his peace with the Lord and penned "There is a Fountain" shortly thereafter.

There Is A Fountain

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, lose all their guilty stains;
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:
Wash all my sins away, wash all my sins away,
And there may I, though vile as he, wash all my sins away.

Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood shall never lose its pow’r,
Till all the ransomed Church of God be saved to sin no more:
Be saved, to sin no more, be saved, to sin no more;
Till all the ransomed Church of God be saved, to sin no more.

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:
And shall be till I die, and shall be till I die;
Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.

Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing Thy pow’r 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