73 (1)Psalm 73 Version 1LM
LORD, what a thoughtless wretch was I,
    Ever to murmur, mourn and pine,
Envying those who, placed on high,
    Now in their pride and honour shine.
2  But in the house of God, their end
    Dawned on my mind and stirred my shame;
In slippery places how they stand!
    How brief their fortunes and their fame!
3  Their vaunted joys, how fast they flee,
    Just as a dream when one awakes;
All their best bliss and harmony,
    Are but a prelude to their plagues.
4  What if they boast how high they rise?
    I’ll never envy them again,
For scornful lips and haughty eyes
    Face everlasting loss and pain.
5  Such mighty grace has made me Thine,
    Washed in my Saviour’s precious blood;
Lord, ’tis enough that Thou art mine,
    My life, my portion and my God!
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748‡