by Isaac Watts
The man is ever bless'd
Who shuns the sinners' ways,
Among their councils never stands,
Nor takes the scorner's place;
But makes the law of God
His study and delight,
Amidst the labours of the day,
And watches of the night.
He like a tree shall thrive,
With waters near the root;
Fresh as the leaf his name shall live;
His works are heav'nly fruit.
Not so the ungoodly race,
They no such blessings find;
Their hopes shall flee, like empty chaff
Before the driving wind.
How will they bear to stand
Before that judgement-seat,
When all the saints, at Christ's right hand,
In full assembly meet.
He knows, and he approves,
The way the righteous go;
But sinners and their works shall meet
A dreadful overthrow.
Last updated May 02, 2015