|Stanza||Poetry Source by First Line|
Lord, I cannot let Thee go,
Till a blessing Thou bestow:
Do not turn away Thy face,
Mine’s an urgent, pressing case.
Nay, I cannot let thee go,, Stanza 1
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.
Nay, I cannot let thee go,, Stanza 2
Thou didst once a wretch behold,
In rebellion blindly bold,
Scorn Thy grace, Thy pow’r defy;
That poor rebel, Lord, was I.
Nay, I cannot let thee go,, Stanza 3