Wherefore O Mighty Man Dost Thou

Wherefore, O mighty man, dost thou,
Thy self, in mischief boast?
Uninterrupted daily flows
God’s goodness without cost.
Thy tongue, the malice of thy heart,
In falsehoods, spreads around;
Like a keen razor, gives a deep.
And unexpected wound.

Thou lovest evil more than good,
Than right, more to speak wrong;
Devouring words are thy delight,
O thou deceitful tongue.
Thee utterly shall God destroy,
And snatch thee from thy place;
O’erthrow thy House, and from the earth,
Root thee, and all thy race.

With fear, the righteous shall behold,
And thus, thy fall, deride:
“Lo! this the man! who God condemned,
Nor on his strength relied;
But, in the abundance of his wealth
Himself secure he thought,
And strengthened by his wicked arts;
Lo! how he’s brought to naught!

But I shall to God’s house return,
Fruitful as the olive tree;
For I have ever fixed my trust,
In God’s benignity.
I’ll ever celebrate thy praise,
For what thou didst effect;
And patient wait thy promised grace,
Which all thy saints expect.

A New Version of the Psalms of David,