A poem on Psalm 16.
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Preserve me, Lord; in Thee I hide;
my every need Thou will provide.
I say to Thee, “Thou art my Lord,”
no good but Thou can life afford.
The Saints on Earth, the noble, true,
delight my heart in all they do.
But those who chase another god
shall taste the sorrow of its Fraud.
I will not join their bloodstained feasts,
nor speak their names with heartless priests.
Thou art my Portion, cup, and lot;
the land Thou hast given leaves no rot.
The lines have fallen Fair for me, —
a Heritage so rich and free.
I bless the Lord, my counsel Wise,
who Guides me when the dark skies rise.
Before me stands the Lord, my Might;
I shall not fall with Him in sight.
My heart is Glad, my spirit Sings;
my flesh shall Rest in hopeful springs.
Thou will not leave me to the Grave,
nor let Decay its claim enslave.
The path of Life Thou make me see
with Joy Forever close to Thee.
The Lutheran Column 