Psalm LXXIII. Third Book

Yet truly God to Isr'el's good, To all the clean in Heart. Altho' my Feet did nigh decline, My Steps almost depart. My Envy at the Foolish rose, To see the Wicked's Peace. Because their Strength is firm, no Bands, In Death, does on them seise. With Troubles they are not distress'd; Nor plagu'd like other Men. They're cloath'd with Violence; and Pride Hangs round them like a Chain. Their Eyes stand out with Fatness; they Have more than Heart could seek. They are corrupt, their Crimes defend; And loftily they speak. Against the Heav'ns they set their Mouth; Their Tongue walks thro' the Earth. Thy People, here, return, and joyn In their full Cups, and Mirth. "How doth God know? in the most High, "(They say,) is Knowledge found? Lo! these, th' Ungodly, prosper here, In Riches they abound. Sure then, (said I,) I've cleans'd my Heart, And wash'd my Hands, in vain. For, all Day long, I plagu'd have been; Each Morn renew'd my Pain. But if I openly assert. What thus I rashly say, Lo; then th' Experience of thy Saints, Each Age, I should betray.