Classic Poem

Truly the Lord is good to those,
The pure in heart, who love his name;
But as for me, temptation rose,
And well-nigh cast me down to shame.

For I was envious at their state,
When I beheld the wicked rise,
And flourish in their pride elate,
No fear of death before their eyes.

Not troubled they, as others are,
Nor plagued, with all their vain pretence;
Pride like a chain of gold they wear,
And clothe themselves with violence.

Swoln are their eyes with wine and lust,
For more than heart can wish have they;
In fraud and tyranny they trust
To make the multitude their prey.

Their mouth assails the heavens; their tongue
Walks arrogantly through the earth;
Pleasure's full cups to them are wrung;
They reel in revelry and mirth.

" Who is the Lord, that we should fear
Lest He our dark devices know?
Who the Most High, that He should hear,
Or heed, the words of men below? "

Thus cry the mockers, flush'd with health,
Exulting while their joys increase;
These are the' ungodly; — men, whose wealth
Flows like a river, ne'er to cease.

And have I cleansed my heart in vain,
And wash'd in innocence my hands?
All day afflicted, I complain,
All night I mourn in straitening bands.

Too painful this for me to view,
Till to thy temple, Lord, I went,
And then their fearful end I knew,
How suddenly their light is spent.

Surely, in slippery places set,
Down to perdition these are hurl'd;
Snared in the toils of their own net,
A spectacle to all the world.

As, from a dream when one awakes,
The phantoms of the brain take flight;
So, when thy wrath in thunder breaks,
Their image shall dissolve in night.

Abash'd, my folly then I saw;
I seem'd before Thee like a brute;
Smit to the heart, o'erwhelm'd with awe,
I bow'd, and worshipp'd, and was mute.

Yet Thou art ever at my side;
O! still uphold me, and defend;
Me by thy counsel Thou shalt guide,
And bring to glory in the end.

Whom have I, Lord! in heaven but Thee?
On earth shall none divide my heart;
Then fail my flesh, my spirit flee,
Thou mine eternal portion art.