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Septuagesima

119. O Thou to whose all-searching sight

L.M.

Grace Church:

Ignaz Joseph Pleyel, 1815

German; N. L. von Zinzendorf, 1721;

Tr. John Wesley, 1738

O Thou to whose all-searching sight

The darkness shineth as the light,

Search, prove my heart; it pants for thee:

O burst these bonds, and set it free!

Wash out its stains, refine its dross,

Nail my affections to the cross;

Hallow each thought; let all within

Be clean, as thou, my Lord, art clean.

If in this darksome wild I stray,

Be thou my Light, be thou my Way;

No foes, no evils need I fear,

No harm, while thou, my God, art near.

When rising floods my soul o'erflow,

When sinks my heart in waves of woe,

Jesus, thy timely aid impart,

And raise my head, and cheer my heart.

Savior, where'er thy steps I see,

Dauntless, untired, I follow thee:

O let thy hand support me still,

And lead me to thy holy hill!

Amen.

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