When God at first made man, <br />Having a glass of blesings standing by; <br />Let us (said he) pour on him all we can: <br />Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie, <br />Contract into a span. <br /> <br />So strength first made a way; <br />The beauty flow'd, then wisdom, honour, pleasure: <br />When almost all was out, God made a stay, <br />Perceiving that alone of all his treasure <br />Rest in the bottom lay. <br /> <br />For if I should (said he) <br />Bestow this jewel also on my creature, <br />He would adore my gifts instead of me, <br />And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature: <br />So both should losers be. <br /> <br />Yet let him keep the rest, <br />But keep them with repining restlessness: <br />Let him be rich and weary, that at least, <br />If goodness lead him not, yet weariness <br />May toss him to my breast.<br /><br />George Herbert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-pulley/
