I. Watts

L.M.

COULD I so false, so faithless prove,

To quit Thy service and Thy love;

Where, Lord, could I Thy presence shun,

Or from Thy dreadful glory run?

2

If up to heaven I take my flight,

’Tis there Thou dwell’st enthroned in light;

Or dive to hell, where vengeance reigns,

And Satan groans beneath Thy chains.

3

If, mounted on a morning ray,

I fly beyond the western sea;

Thy swifter hand would first arrive,

And there arrest Thy fugitive.

4

Or should I try to shun Thy sight

Beneath the spreading vail of night;

One glance of Thine, one piercing ray,

Would kindle darkness into day.

5

Midnight and noon in this agree,

Great God, they’re both alike to Thee;

Not death can hide what God will spy,

And hell lies naked to His eye.