1 Why do the wealthy wicked boast,
And grow profanely bold?
The meanest portion of the just,
Excels the sinner's gold.

2 The wicked borrows of his friends,
But ne'er designs to pay;
The saint is merciful and lends,
Nor turns the poor away.

3 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.

4 His lips abhor to talk profane,
To slander or defraud;
His ready tongue declares to men
What he has learn'd of God.

5 The law and gospel of the Lord
Deep in his heart abide:
Led by the spirit and the word,
His feet shall never slide.

6 When sinners fall, the righteous stand,
Preserv'd from ev'ry snare;
They shall possess the promis'd land,
And dwell for ever there.