Psalm CXXXIX

O Lord, thy awful searching eye has trac'd
My heart thro' every secret winding fold,
And all its inmost powers to thee are known.
Thou see'st my rising and my resting hours,
And every latent thought within my breast
Is bared to thee; my path by thee surrounded,
My bed encircled; God is ever near.

My steps are all before thee, not a word
Can steal in softest whisper from my tongue,
But thou can'st hear and mark its whole intent.
If I look back, thy awful steps I see;
Before me, thou art there; thy potent hand
Restrains and guards, upholds and guides my feet.

Infinite knowledge! my astonish'd mind
Sinks down with awe, and wonders and adores.
Imagination droops her trembling wing,
Nor vainly tempts the height and depth stupendous.
To shun thy spirit whither shall I fly?
Where shall I hide me from a present God?

Could I ascend to heaven, thy throne is there,
And thy full rays would meet my dazled sight.
Or if to hell I force my desperate way,
Thy dreadful presence there for ever frowns.
If mounted on the morning's lightsome wings,
Swift to creation's utmost bounds I fly,
Thy hand alone sustains and guides my flight.

Shall I, to shun the terrors of thine eye,
In midnight's sable mantle wrap me round?
Vain thought! at one tremendous glance of thine,
The midnight shade shall blaze with sudden day.
From thee no darkness hides; at thy command,
Night's deepest gloom shall spread meridian beams;
And light and darkness are alike to thee.

E'er the first dawn of life this frame was thine,
Thy guardian power preserv'd me yet unborn.
My first formation, (work of skill divine!)
Demands my wonder, adoration, praise.
Stupendous are thy works! my conscious soul
With solemn dread, attests the awful power
Whose endless miracles through nature shine.

My substance, when my being first began,
Was thy attentive care; thy sovereign hand
Wrought with almighty art the growing frame,
In just proportion fashion'd every limb,
(All drawn before unerring in thy book,)
'Till fair and perfect rose the human form.

But oh! how precious, how divinely sweet,
My God, to meditate thy thoughts of love!
Shall I attempt to state their mighty sum!
Impossible; for not the countless sands
Which spread the shore can equal half the number.
Whene'er I wake from sleep's inactive bands,
With pleasure I pursue the blest employ;
Still near my God, and wondering at his love.

Yet though thy mercies rise unknown, unnumber'd,
O God of glory, with resistless power
Eternal justice guards thy holy law:
So shall the wretches find, who dare thy sword.
To sure destruction, hence, ye guilty tribes,
Far hence, ye sons of cruelty, depart.

Against my God they speak with impious tongues.
Vile foes to thee, unconscious of thy fear,
And sport profanely with thy awful name.
Do I not view them with abhorrent eye?
Their fix'd aversion to thy righteous laws
Moves all the painful passions of my soul.

Am I not fill'd with grief when sinners rise
Rebellious, to dispute thy sacred will?
With perfect hatred I detest their ways,
And count thy enemies my worst of foes.
Search me, O God, my inmost heart explore,
And try, O try the secret springs within me:
Should one perverse, rebellious wish remain,
Expel the lurking poison from my heart;
And let thy gracious hand, (unerring guide,)
Conduct me safe to everlasting bliss.