And say right thus, with careful sikës 3252 cold: “Eternal God! that through thy purveyánce Leadest this world by certain governance, In idle, 3253 as men say, ye nothing make; But, Lord, these grisly fiendly rockës blake, That seem rather a foul confusión Of work, than any fair creatión Of such a perfect wisë God and stable, Why have ye wrought this work unreasonáble? For by this work, north, south, or west, or east, There is not foster’d man, nor bird, nor beast: It doth no good, to my wit, but annoyeth. 3254 See ye not, Lord, how mankind it destroyeth? A hundred thousand bodies of mankind Have rockës slain, all be they not in mind; 3255 Which mankind is so fair part of thy work, Thou madest it like to thine owen mark. 3256