You have searched me and known me, O God, through and through:
when I sit down or rise; what I think; what I do.
Your hand, like a potter’s, rests ever on me;
and your knowledge is higher than my thoughts can be.
Can I hide from your spirit or flee where you are?
If I soar to the skies or descend very far,
from dawnrise to sunset, through day and through night,
you still hold me and lead, as if darkness were light.
From the womb you have known me and fashioned my frame,
long before I was born or was given a name.
How deep are your thoughts; and their sum is so vast,
more than mortals could count till a lifetime had passed.
I despise those who blaspheme and revel in sin,
yet such shunning is only where faith must begin;
search me, try my heart, purge my thoughts if impure,
and direct me along your true paths that endure.