He hath all thynge by lawe and order drest
And doth no thynge but it is for the best
Therfore whether he gyue thunder snowe or rayne
Wynde or wether, tempest or tourment
Frost lyghtnynge, fayre wether, outher storme sodayne
Mystes or clowdes, yet man sholde be content
And nat with worde nouther inwarde intent
Agaynst god grutche, but euery day and houre
Magnyfye the dedys of god his creatoure
It were moche better thou fole that thou were dome