139. C. M. Beddome.

The Mysteries of Providence.

1Almighty God! thy wondrous works

Of providence and grace,

An angel's perfect mind exceed,

And all our pride abase.

2Stupendous heights! amazing depths!

Creatures in vain explore:

Or, if a transient glimpse we gain,

'Tis faint and quickly o'er.

3Though all the mysteries lie concealed

Beyond what we can see,

Grant us the knowledge of ourselves,

The knowledge, Lord, of thee.

"Whither shall I go from thy presence?"

1Thou, Lord, by strictest search hast known

My rising up and lying down;

My secret thoughts are known to thee,

Known long before conceived by me.

2O could I so perfidious be,

To think of once deserting thee!

Where, Lord, could I thy influence shun?

Or whither from thy presence run?

3If I the morning's wings could gain,

And fly beyond the western main,

Thy swifter hand would first arrive,

And there arrest thy fugitive.

4Or should I try to shun thy sight

Beneath the sable wings of night,

One glance from thee, one piercing ray,

Would kindle darkness into day.

5Search, try, O God, my thoughts and heart,

If mischief lurks in any part;

Correct me where I go astray,

And guide me in thy perfect way.