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For oft hypocrisy will smile serene,
Veiling her falsehood with a semblance fair,
Soothing her victim while she toils unseen,
To wind him fast in her destructive snare,
While disappointed hope and misery are there.
PSALM CXIX.
"Unless thy law had been my delight, I should then have perished in my affliction."
HAD not thy righteous law been my delight,
When friends forsook and earthly comforts fled,
And cruel foes display'd their envious spite,
Most surely I had sunk among the dead,
And cold oblivion's dew had rested on my head.
Yet still I live, Oh, let my praise arise,
To Him who, cloth'd with majesty and might,
And seated in his temple of the skies,
Sends gifts to man, with peace, and life, and light;
But thou, my soul, art vile and sinful in his sight.
