The Pulley

   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 dispersed lie,
       Contract into a span'.

   So strength first made a way;
The beauty flowed, then wisdom, honour, 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.'