Ps. cxxxix. 23, 24

All hearts to Thee are open here;
All our desires are known;
And we are that which we appear
To Thee, good Lord, alone.

No eye of man can penetrate,
Another's secret mind,
Nor well discern his own estate,
Naked, and poor, and blind.

The entrance of Thy word gives light:
Let it so shine within,
That each may tremble at the sight
Of his unbosom'd sin.

With godly sorrow make him grieve,
Till hope spring out of grief,
And cry with tears, "Lord, I believe,
Help Thou mine unbelief."

Ah! then reveal Thy pard'ning love,
To young, to old, to all,
And raise Thy banish'd ones above
The misery of their fall.

As sinners to Thy house we came:
As saints may we depart,
In humbler, holier, happier frame
Of soul, and mind, and heart.