Lord, Thou hast searched me and dost know
Where’er I rest, where’er I go;
Thou know­est all that I have planned,
And all my ways are in Thy hand.

My words from Thee I can­not hide,
I feel Thy pow­er on ev­ery side;
O won­drous know­ledge, aw­ful might,
Unfathomed depth, un­mea­sured height.

Where can I go apart from Thee,
Or whi­ther from Thy pre­sence flee?
In Heav’n? It is Thy dwell­ing fair;
In death’s abode? Lo, Thou art there.

If I the wings of morn­ing take,
And far away my dwell­ing make,
The hand that lead­eth me is Thine,
And my sup­port Thy pow­er di­vine.

If deep­est dark­ness co­ver me,
The dark­ness hid­eth not from Thee;
To Thee both night and day are bright,
The dark­ness shin­eth as the light.