A lit­tle that the right­eous hold
Is bet­ter than the wealth un­told
Of ma­ny wick­ed men;
Destroyed shall be their arm of pride,
But they who in the Lord con­fide
Shall be up­hold­en then.

He knows the days the per­fect live
To them a he­ri­tage will give
Which ev­er shall abide;
In ev­il times no shame they know,
And in the days of fam­ine’s woe
They shall be sa­tis­fied.

Although the wick­ed pros­pered seem,
At last they van­ish like a dream
And per­ish in a day;
Jehovah’s foes shall soon ap­pear
Like fields once fair, now brown and sere;
Like smoke they fade away.

They bor­row oft and pay not back;
But right­eous men do no­thing lack,
And give with gra­cious hand;
Those cursed by Him shall be de­stroyed,
But such as have His grace enjoyed,
They shall pos­sess the land.