1 He's trebly blest, who dreads th' omniscient God,
And in his perfect way with fear has trod,
2 Himself and his kind providence's care;
The produce of his hands he long shall share,
3 His wife, chaste object of his faithful loves,
Fills all his wishes, and his joys improves;
Like beauteous olives in a fruitful soil,
His children croud his board, and crown his toil.
4 Thus blest he lives--his God will still bestow;
Still from his God incessant bounties flow;
And, more t' enhance his happiness, he sees
His country blest with opulence and peace;
6 He sees his own and country's welfare join'd,
While fond parental transports fill his mind;
He sees his race of ev'ry good possest,
Thanks his kind God, and dies supremely blest.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | He's trebly blest, who dreads th' omniscient God |
Author: | Thomas Cradock |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1756 |
Scripture: |