The Wicked Mans Transgression Proves
The wicked Man’s Transgression proves,
He fears not GOD, but Falshood loves;
Mischievous Arts conceiving;
The crafty Foe, with flatt’ring Lies,
His cursed Purpose would disguise,
In him there’s no believing:
But his dark Plots expos’d to Shame,
Shall shew his Friendship’s but a Name,
Whate’er is his Profession;
His wakeful Malice spends the Night,
In forging his accursed Spite,
In Schemes of great Oppression.
But Reason whispers to my Heart,
No Fear of God’s before his Eyes.
But, LORD, thy Mercy’s, my sure Hope,
Thy sacred Truth’s unmeasur’d Scope,
Beyond the Skies extending;
Thy Justice like the Hills remains,
Thy Providence the World sustains,
All Things on thee depending.
Since of thy Goodness all partake,
Thy shelt’ring Wings the Saints shall make,
A Refuge for protection.
Such Guests shall to thy Courts be led,
And drink as from a Fountain Head,
Of Joys, in full Perfection.
Thy Presence is eternal Day,
To upright Hearts, O LORD! display,
Thy Truth’s invalued Treasure;
Oh! let thy Saints thy Favour gain!
With thee the Springs of Life remain,
The Springs of Joy and Pleasure.
Whilst they, at me, insulting spurn,
Their Mischiefs on themselves return,
For thou hast me protected:
My harmless Life they would surprize,
But down they’re fall’n no more to rise,
By all Mankind rejected.