Classic Poem

To him that's able to preserve
Your feet from falling quite,
When tempted from the truth to swerve
By hellish guile and spite:

That's able to present you fair
And faultless at his seat,
Before his glorious presence there
With joy exceeding great:

Ev'n unto God, the only wise,
Yea, infinitely so;
And who alone our Saviour is,
And our salvation too:

To him be glory, majesty,
Authority, and pow'r,
So be it, and so shall it be,
Both now and evermore.