Lord, Thou hast searched and seen me thro’,
Thine eye com­mands with pierc­ing view
My ris­ing and my rest­ing hours,
My heart and flesh with all their pow­ers.

My thoughts, be­fore they are my own,
Are to my God dis­tinct­ly known;
He knows the words I mean to speak
Ere from my op­en­ing lips they break.

Within Thy circ­ling pow­er I stand;
On ev­ery side I find Thy hand;
Awake, asleep, at home, abroad,
I am sur­round­ed still with God.

Amazing know­ledge, vast and great!
What large ex­tent! what lof­ty height
My soul, with all the pow­ers I boast,
Is in the bound­less pros­pect lost.

O may these thoughts pos­sess my breast,
Where e’er I rove, where e’er I rest!
Nor let my weak­er pas­sions dare
Consent to sin, for God is there.

Could I so false, so faith­less prove,
To quit Thy ser­vice and Thy love,
Where, Lord, could I Thy pre­sence shun,
Or from Thy dread­ful glo­ry run?

If up to Heav’n I take my flight,
’Tis there Thou dwell’st en­throned in light
Or dive to hell, there ven­geance reigns,
And Sa­tan groans be­neath Thy chains.

If, mount­ed on a morn­ing ray,
I fly beyond the west­ern sea,
Thy swift­er hand would first ar­rive,
And there ar­rest Thy fu­gi­tive.

Or should I try to shun Thy sight
Beneath the spread­ing veil of night,
One glance of Thine, one pierc­ing ray,
Would kin­dle dark­ness into day.

O may these thoughts pos­sess my breath,
Where e’er I rove, where e’er I rest!
Nor let my weak­er pas­sions dare
Consent to sin, for God is there.

The veil of night is no dis­guise,
No screen from Thy all-search­ing eyes;
Thy hand can seize Thy foes as soon
Through mid­night shades as blaz­ing noon.

Midnight and noon in this agree,
Great God, they’re both alike to Thee;
Not death can hide what God will spy,
And hell lies nak­ed to His eye.

O may these thoughts pos­sess my breast,
Where e’er I rove, wher­e’er I rest!
Nor let my weak­er pass­ions dare
Consent to sin, for God is there.