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 dispersèd lie,
          Contract into a span.

           So strength first made a way,
Then beauty flow'd, 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.