My God, the steps of pious men

Are ordered by thy will;

Though they should fall, they rise again,

Thy hand supports them still.

The Lord delights to see their ways,

Their virtue he approves;

He'll ne'er deprive them of his grace,

Nor leave the men he loves.

The heav'nly heritage is theirs,

Their portion and their home;

He feeds them now, and makes them heirs

Of blessings long to come.

Wait on the Lord, ye sons of men,

Nor fear when tyrants frown;

Ye shall confess their pride was vain,

When justice casts them down.

The haughty sinner have I seen,

Nor fearing man nor God,

Like a tall bay-tree, fair and green,

Spreading his arms abroad.

And lo! he vanished from the ground,

Destroyed by hands unseen;

Nor root, nor branch, nor leaf was found

Where all that pride had been.

But mark the man of righteousness,

His several steps attend;

True pleasure runs through all his ways,

And peaceful is his end.