IZAAK WALTON AND HIS FRIENDS 225 



T'hat thou the furious Eage might'st calm agen, 

 Of bloudy and revengeful! men. 



When on thy Glorious Heav'ns I reflect, 



Thy work, almighty Architect, 



The changinty Moon and Stars that thou hast made 



T' illuminate night's sable shade : 



Oh ! what is man, think I, that Heaven's King 

 Should mind so poor a wretched thing ; 

 Or Man's frail Off-spring, that Almighty God 

 Should stoop to visit his abode ? 



For thou createdst him but one degree 

 Below the Heav'nly Hierarchy 

 Of bless'd and happy Angels, and didst crown 

 Frail Dust with Glory and Eenown. 



Over the works of thy Almighty hand 

 Thou giv'st him absolute command, 

 And all the rest that thou hast made 

 Under his feet hast subject laid ; 



All Sheep and Oxen, and the wilder breed 

 Of Beasts that on their Fellows feed ; 



The Air's Inhabitants, and scaly brood, 

 That live and wanton in the Flood, 

 And whatsoe'er does either swim or creep 

 Through th' investigable Deep : 



Throughout the spacious Earth's extended frame 

 How great is thy adored Name ! 



