Poem by Robert Burns

The First Psalm

THE man, in life wherever plac’d,
  Hath happiness in store,
Who walks not in the wicked’s way,
  Nor learns their guilty lore:

Nor from the seat of scornful pride
  Casts forth his eyes abroad,
But with humility and awe
  Still walks before his God.

That man shall flourish like the trees
  Which by the streamlets grow;
The fruitful top is spread on high,
  And firm the root below.

But he whose blossom buds in guilt
  Shall to the ground be cast,
And like the rootless stubble tost
  Before the sweeping blast.

For-why that God the good adore
  Hath giv’n them peace and rest,
But hath decreed that wicked men
  Shall ne’er be truly blest.

1. I Gaed a Waefu' Gate Yestreen
2. Blythe Was She
3. Farewell to Ballochmyle
4. Stay My Charmer
5. On a Bank of Flowers

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