Psalm 1 (Version 3)

Happy the man whose cautious feet

Shun the broad way that sinners go,

Who hates the place where atheists meet,

And fears to talk as scoffers do.

He loves t' employ his morning light

Amongst the statutes of the Lord:

And spends the wakeful hours at night,

With pleasure pondering o'er the word.

He like a plant by gentle streams,

Shall flourish in immortal green;

And heaven will shine with kindest beams

On every work his hands begin.

But sinners find their counsels crost;

As chaff before the tempest flies,

So shall their hopes be blown and lost,

When the last trumpet shakes the skies.

In vain the rebel seeks to stand

In judgment with the pious race;

The dreadful Judge with stern command

Divides him to a different place.

"Straight is the way my saints have trod,

"I blest the path and drew it plain;

"But you would choose the crooked road,

"And down it leads to endless pain.