'Fore thee, O gracious God, I stand confest

Verse 1

'Fore thee, O gracious God, I stand confest; Thou view'st the inmost secrets of my breast;

Verse 2

Whate'er my heart conceives, my hands have done, Howe'er from man conceal'd, to thee is known:

Verse 3

My night's repose, the travail of my days, Thy wisdom searches, and thy eye surveys:

Verse 4

Nor from my tongue drops one unheeded word, But strait thou hear'st it, O omniscient Lord:

Verse 5

Whate'er I am, my frame, behind, before, Is all the bright exertion of thy pow'r.

Verse 6

Such knowledge far transcends the narrow bounds Of human lore, and all our pride confounds.

Verse 7

O how shall I thy awful presence shun? To what dark corner from thy spirit run?

Verse 8

If I ascend to yon celestial sphere, Lo! thou in dreadful majesty art there: To hell's drear shade if I direct my road, E'en there I find the omnipresent God.

Verse 9

Me with her roseate car if morn supply, And to the limits of the west I fly;

Verse 10

'Tis vain; still in thy presence I shall stand, Expos'd to all the thunder of thy hand.

Verse 11

Say, shall I hide me in the gloomy night? Alas! thy presence makes the darkness light; Thy presence drives the darkness far away; With thee there's no alternate night and day.

Verse 12

Thou form'st the close recesses of the mind, And in those close recesses thee I find: When a rude embryo in the womb I lay, Thou gav'st a cov'ring to my growing clay.

Verse 13

The perfect model of my frame displays Thy wond'rous wisdom, and extorts my praise; My mind runs o'er thy works with awe unfeign'd, And owns the pow'r she cannot comprehend:

Verse 14

Owns, when at first in secret I was made, Thine eye the gloomy dwelling did pervade; To forming nature was the certain guide, And o'er the curious texture did preside.

Verse 15

Thou knew'st me, Lord, while yet my limbs were nought, For in thy book my formless limbs were wrote; And, 'fore they were, thy wonder-working mind Their various pow'rs, their stated hours, design'd.

Verse 16

This when my soul revolves, in wild amaze She's lost, and can but offer up her praife; And vainly she attempts to number o'er The dread stupendous wonders of thy pow'r:

Verse 17

For with much greater ease I'd count the sand Which cast the flowing tides upon the strand, E'en tho' I mould eternal vigils keep, And ne'er indulge my eyes in balmy sleep.

Verse 18

O when wilt thou the impious race destroy, Whose thirst is blood, and homicide their joy;

Verse 19

Who with their villain-tongues thy works blaspheme, And, wanton in their guilt, profane thy name?

Verse 20

Say, are not they the objects of my hate, Who dare thy sacred statutes violate? Count I not them among my enemies, Who thee blaspheme, and thy dread pow'r despise?

Verse 21

Yes; sure I hate them, nor my friends shall be The impious crouds, who dare dishonour thee?

Verse 22

O search, all-clement God, my honest mind; Thou'lt still thy love my ruling passion find:

Verse 23

If with the wicked I thy laws contemn, Consign me to eternal woes with them; If with the righteous I thy laws obey, Guide me with them to everlafting day.