There is an ear awake on high
E’en to thought’s whispers ere they die;
There is an eye whose beam pervades
All depths, all deserts, and all shades:
That ear hath heard our awful vow,
That searching eye is on us now!
Let him whose heart is unprofaned,
Whose hand no blameless blood hath stain’d—
Let him, whose thoughts no record keep
Of crimes in silence buried deep,