Classic Poem

When I the bold transgressor see,
My thoughts thus whisper unto me:
He never fear'd the Lord;
He smooths himself in his own eyes,
Till his secure impieties
Become of all abhorr'd.

Their words are vain and full of guile,
They wisdom from their hearts exile,
Forsaken virtue hate;
Who mischief on their beds contrive,
Through byeways to bad ends arrive,
And vices propagate.

Thy mercy, Lord, is thron'd on high,
And Thy approv'd fidelity
The lofty sky transcends;
Thy justice like a mountain steep,
Thy judgments an unfathom'd deep;
Who man and beast defends.

O Lord, how precious is Thy grace!
The sons of men their comfort place
Beneath Thy shady wings;
They with Thy household dainties shall
Be fully satisfied, and all
Drink of Thy pleasant springs.

For O! from Thee the fountain flows,
Which endless life on Thine bestows,
Enlighten'd with Thy light.
On such as know Thee show'r Thy grace;
O let Thy justice those embrace
Who are in heart upright.

Let not the feet of pride defeat,
Nor such as are in mischief great
My guiltless soul surprise;
The workers of iniquity
Are fall'n like meteors from the sky,
Cast down no more to rise.