Words: Par­a­phrase of Psalm 37; au­thor un­known.

Music: Ra­moth, Eng­lish mel­o­dy.


A little that the righteous hold
Is better than the wealth untold
Of many wicked men;
Destroyed shall be their arm of pride,
But they who in the Lord confide
Shall be upholden then.

He knows the days the perfect live
To them a heritage will give
Which ever shall abide;
In evil times no shame they know,
And in the days of famine’s woe
They shall be satisfied.

Although the wicked prospered seem,
At last they vanish like a dream
And perish in a day;
Jehovah’s foes shall soon appear
Like fields once fair, now brown and sere;
Like smoke they fade away.

They borrow oft and not pay back;
But righteous men do nothing lack,
And give with gracious hand;
Those cursed by Him shall be destroyed,
But such as have His grace enjoyed,
They shall possess the land.