Psalm 139 by Mary Herbert, Countess of Pembroke
O Lord, in me there lieth nought
But to thy search revealed lies;
For when I sit
Thou markest it;
No less thou notest when I rise;
Yea, closest closet of my thought
Hath open windows to thine eyes.
Thou walkest with me when I walk;
When to my bed for rest I go,
I find thee there
And everywhere;
Not youngest thought in me doth grow,
No, not one word I cast to talk,
But, yet unuttered, thou dost know.
If forth I march, thou goest before;
If back I turn, thou comest behind;
So forth nor back
Thy guard I lack;
Nay, on me, too, thy hand I find.
Well I thy wisdom may adore,
But never reach with earthy mind.
To shun thy notice, leave thine eye,
O! whither might I take my way?
To starry sphere?
Thy throne is there.
To dead man's undelightsome stay?
There is thy walk, and there to lie
Unknown in vain I should assay.