Happy The Man Who Feareth God,
Whose Feet His Holy Ways Have Trod;
Thine Own Good Hand Shall Nourish Thee,
And Well And Happy Shalt Thou Be.
Thy Wife Shall, Like A Fruitful Vine,
Fill All Thy House With Clusters Fine;
Thy Children All Be Fresh And Sound,
Like Olive-Plants Thy Table Round.
Lo! To The Man These Blessings Cleave
Who In God’s Holy Fear Doth Live;
From Him The Ancient Curse Hath Fled
By Adam’s Race Inherited.
Out Of Mount Zion God Shall Send,
And Crown With Joy Thy Latter End;
That Thou Jerusalem Mayst See,
In Favor And Prosperity.
He Shall Be With Thee In Thy Ways,
And Give Thee Health And Length Of Days;
Yea, Thou Shalt Children’s Children See,
And Peace On Israel Shall Be.
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