I. Watts
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.