182 BEST'S ART OF ANGLING. 



HYMN. 



Father of all ! all good ! all wise I- 

 Who bid'st the tempest rage or cease < 



Whose glory fills eartn, seas, and skies, 

 Thou only source of joy and peace; 



Thy wise decrees are right and just, 

 Let no one, impious ! tax thy will, 



But on thy glorious mercies -trust, 

 And see a good, through ev'ry ill; 



Arm arm, with fortitude my breast, 

 The various ills of life to bear; 



And teach thy servant, when at rest, 

 For storms and troubles to prepare : 



But through whatever distressful scene, 

 Thy righteous hand may lead me still; 



Resigned to what may evil seem, 

 Content my breast shall calmly fill a 



And as the seasons onward roll, 

 And years revolving quickly fly ; 



Sweet gratitude shall warm my soul, 

 For all the blessings J enjoy : 



Still still I'll praise that heav'nly source, 

 For what it pleases to bestow ; 



That petrifies the streamlet's course, 

 Or bids its silver current flow ; 



That regulates creation's laws, 



Bids all in harmony unite; 

 And is, The universal cau*e 



Of ev'ry thing that's good and right. 



