Blest is the man who makes the word
Of God his con­stant guide;
There learns the path his Sav­ior trod,
Nor turns his step aside,
But shuns the broad and flow­ery way
Where vice and fol­ly love to stray.

He, like a tree whose spread­ing root
Refreshing wa­ters lave,
Whose bend­ing boughs with gold­en fruit
In rich lu­xu­ri­ance wave,
Shall firm­ly stand when storms in­vade—
No leaf shall fall, no blos­som fade.

And when, his life’s brief sum­mer o’er,
He shares the ge­ne­ral doom,
Though earth shall know his place no more,
In Hea­ven he still shall bloom;
And there, with end­less glo­ry crowned,
In fruits of right­eous­ness abound.