The man, in life wherever plac'd, br Hath happiness in store, br Who walks not in the wicked's way, br Nor learns their guilty lore! br br Nor from the seat of scornful pride br Casts forth his eyes abroad, br But with humility and awe br Still walks before his God. br br That man shall flourish like the trees, br Which by the streamlets grow; br The fruitful top is spread on high, br And firm the root below. br br But he whose blossom buds in guilt br Shall to the ground be cast, br And, like the rootless stubble, tost br Before the sweeping blast. br br For why? that God the good adore, br Hath giv'n them peace and rest, br But hath decreed that wicked men br Shall ne'er be truly blest.