How blest is he who ne’er consents
By ill advice to walk;
Nor stands in sinners ways, nor fits
Where men profanely talk!

But makes the perfect law of God
His bus’ness and delight;
Devoutly reads therein by day,
And meditates by night.

Like some fair tree, which, fed by streams,
With timely fruit does bend,
He still shall flourish, and success
All his designs attend.

Ungodly men, and their attempts,
No lasting root shall find;
Untimely blasted, and dispers’d,
Like chaff before the wind.

Their guilt shall strike the wicked dumb
Before the Judge’s face:
No formal hypocrite shall then
Among the saints have place.

For God approves the just man’s ways;
To happiness they tend:
But sinners, and the paths they tread,
Shall both in ruin end.