Of feeble and short-sighted men.
Where shall I from Thy Spirit fly,
Escape from Thine omniscient eye?
Where shall I from Thy presence hide,
And where remote from Thee abide?
If I ascend the utmost height
Of heav'n, there art Thou, thron'd in light;
Or should I down to hell repair
And make my bed, I'd find Thee there.
Should I on morning's pinions ride,