Page:Book of common prayer (TEC, 1979).pdf/794



, you have searched me out and known me; * you know my sitting down and my rising up; you discern my thoughts from afar.

You trace my journeys and my resting&#8209;places * and are acquainted with all my ways.

Indeed, there is not a word on my lips, * but you, O, know it altogether.

You press upon me behind and before * and lay your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; * it is so high that I cannot attain to it.

Where can I go then from your Spirit? * where can I flee from your presence?

If I climb up to heaven, you are there; * if I make the grave my bed, you are there also.

If I take the wings of the morning * and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,

Even there your hand will lead me * and your right hand hold me fast.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will cover me, * and the light around me turn to night,”

Darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day; * darkness and light to you are both alike.

For you yourself created my inmost parts; * you knit me together in my mother’s womb.