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O Lord, in me there lieth nought 
O Lord, in me there lieth nought But to Thy search revealed lies ; For when I sit Thou markest it, 
No less Thou notest when I rise ; Yea, closest closet of my thought Hath open windows to Thine eyes. 
Thou walkest with me when I walk, When to my bed for rest I go, I find Thee there And everywhere ; 
Not youngest thought in me doth grow, No, not one word I cast to talk, But yet unuttered Thou dost know. 
To shun Thy notice, leave Thine eye, Oh, whither might I take my way? To starry sphere ? Thy throne is there : 
To dead men's undelightsome stay ? There is thy walk, and there to lie Unknown in vain I should essay.