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?

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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 ev’ry fault!