253
PSALM CXXXIX,
HOU, Lord, hast searched and known my ways,Mine inmost feelings meet Thy gaze;
Thy presence all my path enfolds,
Each thought and word Thine eye beholds.
Above, below, yea, all around,
I feel Thy hand—Thou still art found,—
Such wisdom soars too high for me:
What mortal thought can compass Thee!
I feel Thy hand—Thou still art found,—
Such wisdom soars too high for me:
What mortal thought can compass Thee!
Oh, where shall I Thy presence fly,
Oh, where escape Thy searching eye?
In Heaven above—in Hell below,
Where'er I turn to, there art Thou.
Oh, where escape Thy searching eye?
In Heaven above—in Hell below,
Where'er I turn to, there art Thou.
Yes, if on Morning's dewy wings,
With rapid flight my spirit springs,
O'er ocean's utmost bounds to dwell,
Thy right hand guides and guards me still.
With rapid flight my spirit springs,
O'er ocean's utmost bounds to dwell,
Thy right hand guides and guards me still.
And if I say, Night's darkest hour
Shall shield me from Thy searching power,
Ah, no! for then it turns to light,
And shows me still beneath Thy sight.
Shall shield me from Thy searching power,
Ah, no! for then it turns to light,
And shows me still beneath Thy sight.
