A story of the hymn, “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing,” by William Petersen

Robert Robinson had always been prone to wander. Apprenticed to a barber at fourteen, he spent more time reading and playing with friends than cutting hair. He became the leader of a notorious gang, and he shamed his family so much that they practically disowned him. Then, still a teen, he went to a George Whitefield meeting, intending to ridicule it; instead, he almost fell asleep in it. But then the preacher shouted out a Bible verse: “O generation of vipers; who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come” (Matthew 3:7, KJV). That evening Robinson was converted. After his apprenticeship was over, Robinson went into the ministry. He wrote this hymn at the age of twenty-three as he served at the Calvinistic Methodist Church in Norfolk, England.

Late in life, Robinson did stray from the faith and drifted far from the Fount of every blessing. One day he was riding in a stagecoach and sitting by a woman who was reading a hymnbook. She showed him the hymn, “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing,” saying how wonderful it was. He tried to change the subject but couldn’t. Finally, he said, “Madam, I am the poor man who wrote that hymn many years ago, and I would give a thousand worlds to enjoy the feelings I had then.”

Scriptures: 1 Samuel 7:10-12; Zechariah 13:1; 1 Peter 2:23-25

Themes: Praise, Redemption, Grace

Lyrics of the Hymn:

Come, Thou Fount of ev’ry 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—O fix me on it,

Mount of God’s unchanging love.

Here I raise mine Ebenezer;

Hither by Thy help I’m come;

And 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 save my soul from danger,

Interposed His precious blood.

O, to grace how great a debtor

Daily I’m constrained to be!

Let that grace, Lord, like a fetter,

Bind my wand’ring heart 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.

By ROBERT ROBINSON (1735–1790)

Reference for the Hymn:

Petersen, William. The Complete Book of Hymns (pp. 371-372). Tyndale House Publishers. Kindle Edition.