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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 published 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
to indulge a sinful thought,
since the great God can see and hear,
and writes down every fault!
(1674-1748)