1 Lord, I cannot let thee go,
'Till a blessing thou bestow;
Do not turn away thy face,
Mine's an urgent, pressing case.

2 Dost thou ask me who I am?
Ah, my Lord, thou know'st my name!
Yet a question gives a plea,
To support my suit with thee.

3 Thou did'st once a wretch behold,
In rebellion blindly bold,
Scorn thy grace thy power defy,
That poor rebel, Lord, was I.

4 Once a sinner near despair
Sought thy mercy-seat by prayer;
Mercy heard and set him free,
Lord, that mercy came to me.

5 Many days have pass'd since then,
Many changes I have seen;
Yet have been upheld 'till now,
Who could hold me up but thou.

6 Thou hast help'd in every need,
This emboldens me to plead:
After so much mercy past,
Can'st thou let me sink at last?

7 No – I must maintain my hold,
'Tis thy goodness makes me bold;
I can no denial take
When I plead for Jesus' sake.