Psalm 73:1. First Part. C. M.
Afflicted saints happy, and
prosperous sinners cursed.
Now I’m convinc’d the Lord is kind
To men of heart sincere,
Yet once my foolish thoughts repin’d
And border’d on despair.
I griev’d to see the wicked thrive,
And spoke with angry breath,
“How pleasant and profane they live!
“How peaceful is their death!
“With well-fed flesh and haughty eyes
“They lay their fears to sleep;
“Against the heavens their slanders rise,
“While saints in silence weep.
“In vain I lift my hands to pray,
“And cleanse my heart in vain,
“For I am chasten’d all the day,
“The night renews my pain.’
Yet while my tongue indulg’d complaints,
I felt my heart reprove;
“Sure I shall thus offend thy saints,
“And grieve the men I love.”
But still I found my doubts too hard,
The conflict too severe,
Till I retir’d to search thy word,
And learn thy secrets there.
There, as in some prophetic glass,
I saw the sinner’s feet
High mounted on a slippery place,
Beside a fiery pit.
I heard the wretch profanely boast,
Till at thy frown he fell;
His honours in a dream were lost,
And he awakes in hell.
Lord, what an envious fool I was!
How like a thoughtless beast!
Thus to suspect thy promis’d grace,
And think the wicked blest.
Yet I was kept from full despair,
Upheld by power unknown;
That blessed hand that broke the snare
Shall guide me to thy throne.