John Newton 7,7,7,7 My name is JACOB. Nay, I cannot let Thee go, Till a blessing thou bestow; Do not turn away thy face, Mine's an urgent pressing case. 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. Thou didst once a wretch behold, In rebellion blindly bold; Scorn thy grace, thy pow'r defy, That poor rebel, Lord, was I. Once a sinner near despair, Sought thy mercy-seat by prayer; Mercy heard and set him free, Lord, that mercy came to me, Many years have passed since then, Many changes I have seen; Yet have been upheld till now, Who could hold me up but thou? Thou hast helped in every need, This emboldens me to plead; After so much mercy past, Canst thou let me sink at last? No -- I must maintain my hold, 'Tis thy goodness makes me bold; I can no denial take, When I plead for Jesu's sake. |