Almighty God, thy piercing eye
Strikes through the shades of night,
And our most secret actions lie
All open to thy sight.
There’s not a sin that we commit,
Nor wicked word we say,
But in thy dreadful book `tis writ
Against the judgment-day.
And must the crimes that I have done
Be read and publish’d there,
Be all exposed before the sun,
While men and angels hear?
Lord, at thy feet ashamed I lie,
Upward I dare not look;
Pardon my sins before I die,
And blot them from thy book.
Remember all the dying pains
That my Redeemer felt,
And let his blood wash out my stains,
And answer for my guilt.
O may I now for ever fear
T’ indulge a sinful thought,
Since the great God can see, and hear,
And writes down every fault!