The world's a farce and false, and You
Alone, good God, are Truth and true.

The Holy Bible, th'historie of man,
And God and man, and God as man on earth;
The true account of how the world began;
The treasure mapp that leades to love and mirth;
The looking glasse wherein is seene the faire
Image of God, and all man's ugly sinnes;
The written word of God for ev'ry heir
Of saving grace who runnes the race and winnes;
The booke of lyfe writ in my Saviour's bloud,
Dictated in the Spirit's whisper'd breath;
The foil for ev'ry curse; the cure for death;
The greatest booke about the greatest good;
The pasture for the sheepe; the sheepefold ****;
Manna from heav'n; the ladder up to God.

Thanks be unto God,
For every good and perfect gift
Comes down from the Father of lights
Who causes us in Christ
The world to overcome
And to joyfully sing.  

I am a man flawed,
A Christian the Devil will sift
For a season.  But the serpent bites
His own tongue, in time; and I, imparadised,
Will ask him when he's dumb,
Death, where is thy sting?

I don't have a president:
I have a King
Who trumps the Chump
And Donald Trump,
And works seven
Days a week for Heaven,
Not Beijing. ​
The laws I observe are God-sent.

Tick tock, tick tock:
God has the pow'r
To bust the clock
And break the hour,

To stand the sun
Still in the sky
Till Joshua's won
His victory.

Time will disband
All flesh that's grass:
Time is just sand
That passes glass.

With much ado
A year's begun,
But nothing's new
Under the sun.

Blessed is he who shuns the road
Advis'd by wicked men to travel,
And stands not in the sinner's way
     Upon that stony gravel;
Nor sits within the scornful's seat
To look with pride upon the street.

But his delight is in the law
Of God, and night and day, and day
And night, he meditates on this:
     He ponders it alway.
Blessed is he who knows the rod
Is wielded by a loving God.  

Blessed is he, for he shall be
A planted tree by rivers wet
With living waters, bearing fruit
     In season, fruit thickset.
His water'd leaf will wither not,
And he will prosper on the spot.

Not so th'ungodly.  They will parch
Alike a desert dune at noon,
And blow about like so much chaff,
     And o'er the earth be strewn.
Far and away, away and far,
The wicked evil scattered are.

Therefore the wicked shall not stand
In judgment, but, instead, be judg'd.
No sinners join the congregants
     Of God, lest God be smudged.  
God gives his children cherishing
While wickedness goes perishing.

Out of the depths I cry
To You, Father of Lights!
My God, who reigns on high,
Out of the highest heights,
Please, God, look down on me
And turn to me an ear,
That You a son may see,
His supplications hear.

Were You each sin to count,
To weigh, and make us bear,
Lord, who could stand th'amount
To shoulder where'er they err?
No one.  But God forgives.
Fearsome, the Lord God reigns.
With sovereign pow'r He lives,
The pow'r to whiten stains.

I wait for You, O Lord:
O Lord, my soul will wait.
My hope is in the Word,
And so my hope is great.
And more, O more than they
Who watch and wait for morn,
My soul awaits, I say,
Awaits You, unforlorn.  

Israel, trust in Him:
Redemption plenteous
For guilty sinners grim
He offers in overplus.
Israel, hope in God,
For God is merciful:
He will not spare the rod,
But covers it with wool.