Words: Par­a­phrase of Psalm 52; au­thor un­known.

Music: Wal­tham (Cal­kin), , 1872.


O mighty man, why wilt thou boast
Thyself in hateful cruelty,
When God Almighty is most kind,
And ever merciful is He?

Thy tongue deviseth wickedness,
A weapon treacherous and keen;
Thou lovest evil more than good,
And falsehood in thy sight is clean.

Since, O thou false, deceitful tongue,
In deadly words thou findest joy,
The Lord shall pluck thee from thy place
And all thy wickedness destroy.

The good, confirmed in godly fear,
The pride and folly shall confess
Of those who make not God their strength,
But trust in wealth and wickedness.

But as for me, my strength is like
A verdant temple olive tree;
My trust is in God’s tender love,
Which shall endure eternally.

With endless thanks, O Lord, to Thee,
Thy wondrous works I will proclaim,
And in the presence of Thy saints
Will ever hope in Thy good Name.