1 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 :
Not hath the proud man rested in thy Bowers.
There liues no Viltur, no deuouring Beare,
But onely Doues and Lambs are harbor'd there.
2 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.
Online text copyright ©, Harald Lillmeyer