Why do the wealthy wicked boast,

And grow profanely bold?

The meanest portion of the just

Excels the sinner's gold.

The wicked borrows of his friends,

But ne'er designs to pay;

The saint is merciful and lends,

Nor turns the poor away.

His alms with lib'ral heart he gives

Amongst the sons of need;

His mem'ry to long ages lives,

And blessed is his seed.

His lips abhor to talk profane,

To slander or defraud;

His ready tongue declares to men

What he has learned of God.

The law and gospel of the Lord

Deep in his heart abide;

Led by the Spirit and the word,

His feet shall never slide.

When sinners fall, the righteous stand,

Preserved from every snare;

They shall possess the promised land,

And dwell for ever there.