The fountain of Christ
Assist me to sing,
The blood of our priest,
Our crucified King;
Which perfectly cleanses
From sin and from filth,
And richly dispenses
Salvation and health.

This fountain so dear
He’ll freely impart;
Unlocked by the spear,
It gushed from his heart,
With blood and with water,
The first to atone,
To cleanse us the latter,
The fountain’s but One.

This fountain is such
(As thousands can tell)
The moment we touch
It’s streams, we are well.
All waters beside them
Are full of the curse;
For all that have tried them
Swell, rot, and grow worse.

This fountain, sick soul
Recovers thee quite;
Bathe here, and be whole;
Wash here and be white;
Whatever diseases
Or dangers befall
The fountain of Jesus
Will rid thee of all.

This fountain from guilt
Not only makes pure,
And gives, soon as felt,
Infallible cure;
But if guilt removed,
Return and remain,
Its power may be proved
Again, and again.

This fountain unsealed
Stands open for all,
That long to be healed
The great and the small;
Here’s strength for the weakly,
That hither are led;
Here’s health for the sickly;
Here’s life for the dead.

This fountain though rich,
From charge is quite clear;
The poorer the wretch,
The welcomer here:
Come needy, and guilty,
Come loathsome, and bare:
You can’t come too filthy,
Come just as you are.

This fountain in vain
Has never been tried,
It takes out all stain
Whenever applied;
The water flows sweetly
With virtue divine,
To cleanse souls completely,
Though leprous as mine.

The Christian’s duty, exhibited in a series of hymns,