"WHITHER SHALL I FLEE FROM THY PRESENCE?"
Psalm CXXXIX.
Take morning's wing, and fly from zone to zone,
To Earth's remotest pole, and ere old Time
Can shift one figure on his dial plate
Haste to the frigid Thule of mankind,
Where the scant life-drop freezes.—Or go down
To Ocean's secret caverns, 'mid the throng
Of monsters without number, which no foot
Of man hath visited, and yet returned
To walk among the living.—Or the shroud
Of midnight wrap around thee, dense and deep,
Bidding thy spirit slumber.—
Hop'st thou thus
To 'scape the Almighty, to whose piercing eye
Morn's robe and midnight's vestment are the same?
Spirit of truth!—why should we seek to hide
Motive or deed from thee?—why strive to walk
In a vain show before our fellow men,
Since at the same dread audit each must stand,
And with a sun-ray read his brother's breast
While his own thoughts are weighed?—Search thou my soul!—
And if aught evil lurk securely there
Like Achan's stolen hoard, command it thence,
