Why Do the Proud Insult the Poor?

Why do the proud in­sult the poor

And boast the large es­tates they have?

How vain are riche­s to se­cure

Their haugh­ty own­ers from the grave!

They can’t re­deem one hour from death

With all the wealth in which they trust;

Nor give a dy­ing bro­ther breath

When God com­mands him down to dust.

There the dark earth and dis­mal shade

Shall clasp their nak­ed bodies round;

That flesh

so de­li­cate­ly fed

Lies cold and mol­ders in the ground.

Like thought­less sheep the sin­ner dies

Laid in the grave for worms to eat;

The saints shall in the morn­ing rise

And find th’op­press­or at their feet.

His hon­ors per­ish in the dust

And pomp and beau­ty

birth and blood:

That glo­ri­ous day ex­alts the just

To full do­min­ion o’er the proud.

My Sav­ior shall my life re­store

And raise me from my dark ab­ode;

My flesh and soul shall part no more

But dwell for ev­er near my God.