HAPPY the man that doth not walk In wicked counsels, nor hath lent His glad ear to the railing talk Of scorners, nor his prompt steps bent To wicked paths, where sinners went. But, to those safer tracts confin'd, Which God's law-giving finger made, Never withdraws his weari'd mind From practice of that holy trade, By noonday's sun or midnight's shade. Like the fair plant whom neighbouring floods Refresh, whose leaf feels no decays; That not alone with flattering buds, But early fruits, his Lord's hope pays: So shall he thrive in all his ways. But the loose sinner shall not share So fix'd a state; like the light dust That up and down the empty air The wild wind drives with various gust, So shall cross-fortunes toss the unjust. Therefore, at the last Judgment-day, The trembling sinful soul shall hide His confus'd face, nor shall he stay Where the elected troops abide, But shall be chas'd far from their side. For the clear paths of righteous men To the all-seeing Lord are known; But the dark maze and dismal den, Where sinners wander up and down, Shall by his hand be overthrown. |