Blest is the man who shuns the place
Where sinners love to meet:
Who fears to tread their wicked ways,
And hates the scoffer’s seat;
But in the statutes of the Lord
Has placed his chief delight;
By day he reads or hears the word,
And meditates by night.
He, like a plant of gen’rous kind,
By living waters set,
Safe from the storms and blasting wind,
Enjoys a peaceful state.
Green as the leaf, and ever fair,
Shall his profession shine;
While fruits of holiness appear
Like clusters on the vine.
Not so the impious and unjust;
What vain designs they form!
Their hopes are blown away like dust,
Or chaff before the storm.
Sinners in judgment shall not stand
Amongst the sons of grace,
When Christ, the Judge, at His right hand
Appoint His saints a place.
His eye beholds the path they tread;
His heart approves it well;
But crooked ways of sinners lead
Down to the gates of hell.
~Isaac Watts~
Our Own Hymn-Book (Pasadena, TX; Pilgrim Publications; 2002) p.1.
The Old Guys 
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