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 liberal heart he gives
Amongst the sons of need;
His memory to long ages lives
And blessèd 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.