1 My God, the steps of pious men Are order'd by thy will; Tho' they should fall, they rise again, Thy hand supports them still.
2 The Lord delights to see their ways, Their virtue he approves; He'll ne'er deprive them of his grace, Nor leave the men he loves.
3 The heavenly heritage is theirs, Their portion and their home; He feeds them now, and makes them heirs Of blessings long to come.
4 Wait on the Lord, ye sons of men, Nor fear when tyrants frown; Ye shall confess their pride was vain, When justice casts them down.