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