Fools, for Their Transgressions, See

Fools

for their trans­gress­ion

see

Sharp dis­ease their youth con­sume

And their beau­ty

like a tree

Withering o’er an ear­ly tomb.

Food is loath­some to their taste.

And the eye re­volts from light;

All their joys to ru­in haste.

As the sunset in­to night.

Then un­to the Lord they cry

He in­clines a gr­acious ear

Sends de­liv­er­ance from on high

Rescues them from all their fear.

He with health re­news their frame

Lengthens out their num­bered days;

Let them glor­ify His name

With the sac­ri­fice of praise.

O that men would praise the Lord

For His good­ness to their race;

For the won­ders of His Word

And the rich­es of His grace!