1 Sure there's a righteous God, Nor is religion vain, Tho' men of vice may boast aloud, And men of grace complain.
2 I saw the wicked rise, And felt my heart repine, While haughty fools with scornful eyes In robes of honour shine.
3 [Pamper'd with wanton ease, Their flesh looks full and fair, Their wealth rolls in like flowing seas, And grows without their care.
4 Free from the plagues and pains That pious souls endure, Thro' all their life oppression reigns And racks the humble poor.
5 Their impious tongues blaspheme The everlasting God; Their malice blasts the good man's name, And spreads their lies abroad.
6 But I with flowing tears Indulge my doubts to rise "Is there a God that sees or hears "The things below the skies?"]
7 The tumults of my thought Held me in hard suspense, Till to thy house my feet were brought To learn thy justice thence.
8 Thy word with light and power Did my mistakes attend; I view'd the sinners' life before, But here I learnt their end.
9 On what a slippery steep The thoughtless wretches go; And O that dreadful fiery deep That waits their fall below.
10 Lord, at thy feet I bow, My thoughts no more repine; I call my God my portion now, And all my powers are thine.