1 Searcher of hearts! to thee
I all my soul display;
And, conscious of its innate arts,
Intreat thy strict survey.

2 If, lurking in its folds,
I any sin conceal:
O let a ray of light divine
The secret guile reveal!

3 If, in these fetters bound,
A wretched slave I lie:
Smite off my chains, and wake my soul
To light and liberty!

4 To penitence and pray'r
Be gentle pity giv'n;
Speak ample pardon to my heart,
and seal its claim to heav'n.