Most sweet and pleasing are thy ways

Most sweet and pleasing are thy wayes, O God,

Like Meadowes deckt with Christall streames and flowers:

Thy paths no foote prophane hath euer trod:

Nor hath the proud man rested in thy Bowers:

There liues no Vultur, no deuouring Beare,

But onely Doues and Lambs are harbor'd there.

The Wolfe his young ones to their prey doth guide;

The Foxe his Cubbs with false deceit endues;

The Lyons Whelpe suckes from his Damme his pride;

In hers the Serpent malice doth infuse:

The darksome Desart all such beasts contaynes,

Not one of them in Paradice remaynes.