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O Christ He is the fountain,
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| 1. | O Christ He is the fountain, |
| | The deep, sweet well of life: |
| | Its living streams l've tasted |
| | Which save me from grief and strife. |
| | And to an ocean fullness, |
| | His mercy doth expand; |
| | His grace is all-sufficient |
| | As by His wisdom planned. |
| 2. | O I am my Beloved's. |
| | And my Beloved's mine; |
| | He brings a poor vile sinner |
| | Into His house of wine! |
| | I stand upon His merit; |
| | I know no other stand. |
| | I'm hidden in his presence |
| | And held by His own hand. |
| 3. | The Bride eyes not her garment, |
| | But her dear Bridegroom's face; |
| | I will not gaze at glory. |
| | But on my King of grace: |
| | Not at the crown He giveth, |
| | But on His pierced hand; |
| | The Lamb is all the glory, |
| | And my eternal stand! |