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Hymn Author

Robert Robinson

(1735 – 1790)

TUNE: Nettleton

Come Thou Fount of every blessing

Born at Swaffham, Norfolk England. Robert heard Whitefield preach in 1752. After three years of darkness he came to know the Saviour. After attending the ministry of Wesley he was invited to take charge of a Calvinist Methodist chapel in Suffolk. It is said that Robinson knew how to ‘draw every ear’. It is said that after writing this hymn Robinson became careless; during a coach ride he was reproved by a lady for his frivolous behaviour. She then quoted a verse of this hymn to which Robinson is reported to have said: ” I am the poor unhappy man who composed it; and I would give a thousand worlds, if I had them, to enjoy the feelings I had then.”


Come Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace,
Streams of mercy never ceasing
Call for songs of loudest praise;
Teach me some melodious sonnet
Sung by flaming tongues above,
Praise the mount, I’m fixt upon it,
Mount of Christ’s redeeming love.


Sorrowing shall I be in spirit
Till releas’d from flesh and sin,
Yet from what I do inherit
Here Thy praises I’ll begin;
Here, I’ll raise my Ebenezer,
Hither, by Thy grace I’m come,
So I hope by Thy good pleasure
Safely to arrive at home.


Jesus sought me when a stranger
Wand’ring from the fold of God,
He to rescue me from danger
Interpos’d His precious blood;
How His kindness yet pursues me
Mortal tongue can never tell,
Cloth’d in flesh, till death shall loose me
I cannot proclaim it well!


Oh! to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrain’d to be,
Let that grace now, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering soul to Thee;
Prone to wander, Lord I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love,
Here’s my heart! Lord, take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.


Oh! that day when freed from sinning,
I shall see Thy lovely face,
Clothed then in blood wash’d linen
How I’ll sing Thy boundless grace;
Come, my Lord, no longer tarry,
Take my ransom’d soul away,
Send Thine angel hosts to carry
Me to realms of endless days


If Thou ever didst discover
Unto me the promis’d land,
Let me now the stream pass over,
On the heavenly Canaan stand;
Now destroy whate’er opposes,
Into Thine embrace I’d fly,
Speak the word, Thou didst to Moses,
Bid me, Lord, Come up and die.