1 Nay, 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 the question gives a plea,
To support my suit with thee.

3 Thou didst once a wretch behold,
In rebellion blindly bold,
Scorn thy grace, thy pow'r defy,
That poor rebel, Lord, was I.

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

5 Many years 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 ev'ry need,
This emboldens me to plead;
After so much mercy past,
Canst thou let me sink at last!

7 No--I must maintian my hold,
'Tis thy goodness makes me bold;
I can no denial take,
When I plead for Jesu's sake.