1 Sure there is a righteous GOD,
Nor is Religion vain;
Though 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;
Through 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
Indulg'd 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 Pow'r
Did my Mistakes amend;
I view'd the Sinner's Life before,
But here I learnt their End.
9 On what a slipp'ry Steep
The thoughtless Wretches go!
And O that dreadful fi'ry 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 Pow'rs are thine.