8,6,8,6

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?

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!