To the chief musician, by David, a psalm.1 O Lord! thou hast searched me through, and thou knowest me. 2 Thou indeed knowest my sitting down and my rising up, thou understandest my thinking while yet afar off. 3 My walking and my lying down hast thou limited, and with all my ways art thou acquainted. 4 For, while there is not a word on my tongue, lo, thou, O Lord, knowest it entirely. 5 Behind and before hast thou hedged me in, and thou placest upon me thy hand. 6 Too wonderful is such knowledge for me: it is too exalted, I cannot attain unto it. 7 Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee away from thy presence? 8 If I should ascend into heaven, thou art there; and if I should make my bed in the nether world, behold, thou art there. 9 If I should lift up the wings of the morning-dawn, if I should dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea: 10 Even there would thy hand lead me, and thy right hand would seize hold of me. 11 If I said, Surely darkness shall enshroud me, and into night be turned the light about me: 12 Yet even darkness can obscure nothing from thee; but the night will shine like the day; both the darkness and the light are alike to thee. 13 For thou possessest my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb. 14 I will thank thee therefore, that I am so fearfully and wonderfully made: wonderful are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. 15 My being was not concealed from thee, when I was made in secret, when I was so to say embroidered in the lowest parts of the earth. 16 My undeveloped substance did thy eyes see; and in thy book were all of them written down—the days which have been formed, while yet not one of them was here. 17 And how precious are unto me thy thoughts, O God! how mightily great is their sum! 18 Should I count them, they would be more numerous than the sand: I awake, and I am still with thee. 19 If thou wouldst but slay the wicked, O God! and ye men of blood, depart from me. 20 Who speak of thee for a wicked end, thy enemies, that bear thy name for a vain purpose. 21 Behold, those that hate thee I ever hate, O Lord; and for those that rise up against thee do I feel loathing. 22 With the utmost hatred do I hate them: enemies are they become unto me. 23 Search me through, O God, and know my heart; probe me, and know my thoughts: 24 And see if there be a way of perverseness in me, and lead me on the way of eternity.
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