Lord, Thou hast searched me Thou hast known My rising and my sitting down And from afar Thou knowest well The very thoughts that in me dwell Thou knowest all the ways I plan My path and lying down dost scan For in my tongue no word can be But, lo, O Lord, 'tis known to Thee Behind me, before me, Thou dost stand And lay on me Thy mighty hand Such knowledge is for me too strange And high beyond my utmost range