O Lord, Thy all dis­cern­ing eyes
My in­most pur­pose see;
My deeds, my words, my thoughts, arise
Alike dis­closed to Thee:
My sit­ting down, my ris­ing up,
Broad noon, and deep­est night,
My path, my pil­low, and my cup,
Are op­en to Thy sight.

Before, be­hind, I meet Thine eye,
And feel Thy hea­vy hand:
Such know­ledge is for me too high,
To reach or un­der­stand:
What of Thy won­ders can I know?
What of Thy pur­pose see?
Where from Thy Spir­it shall I go?
Where from Thy pre­sence flee?

If I as­cend to Hea­ven on high,
Or make my bed in hell;
Or take the morn­ing’s wings, and fly
O’er ocean’s bounds to dwell;
Or seek, from Thee, a hid­ing place
Amid the gloom of night—
Alike to Thee are time and space,
The dark­ness and the light.