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395 King of Peace



Lord, 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.

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