WHEN God at first made man, Having a glass of blessings standing by, Let us (said he) pour on him all we can: Let the world’s riches, which dispersèd lie, Contract into a span. So strength first made a way; Then beauty flowed, then wisdom, honor, pleasure: When almost all was out, God made a stay, Perceiving that, alone, of all his treasure, Rest in the bottom lay. For if I should (said he) Bestow this jewel also on my creature, He would adore my gifts instead of me, And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature: So both should losers be. Yet let him keep the rest, But keep them with repining restlessness: Let him be rich and weary, that, at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to my breast.
The Gifts of God
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