2 24 IZAAK WALTON AND HIS FRIENDS 



Such is thy fault, that when I think to find 

 A punishment of the severest kind, 

 For thy offence, my malice cannot name 

 A greater ; than, once to commit the same. 



Where was thy reason then, when thou began 

 To write against the sense of God and Man ? 

 Within thy guilty breast Despair took place, 

 Thou would'st despairing Die in spite of Grace. 

 At once th' art Judge, and Malefactor shown, 

 Each Sentence in thy Poem is thine own. 



Then, what thou hast pronounc'd go execute, 

 Hang up thy self, and say, I bid thee do't ; 

 Fear not thy memory, that cannot dye, 

 This Panegyrick is thy Elegy, 

 Which shall be when ; or wheresoever read, 

 A living Poem to upbraid thee dead. 



The Eighth Psalm Paraphrased 



Lord, our Governour, whose potent sway 



All Pow'rs in Heav'n and Earth obey. 



Throughout the spacious Earth's extended frame 



How great is thy adored Name ! 



Thy Glories thou hast seated, Lord, on high. 



Above the Empirean Sky. 



Out of the mouths of Infants, newly come 



From the dark Closet of the Womb, 



Thou hast ordained pow'rfull Truth to rise, 



To baffle all thine Enemies ; 



