LORD ! what a busy, restless thing <br />Hast Thou made man ! <br />Each day and hour he is on wing, <br />Rests not a span ; <br />Then having lost the sun and light, <br />By clouds surpris'd, <br />He keeps a commerce in the night <br />With air disguis'd. <br />Hadst Thou given to this active dust <br />A state untir'd, <br />The lost son had not left the husk, <br />Nor home desir'd. <br />That was Thy secret, and it is <br />Thy mercy too ; <br />For when all fails to bring to bliss, <br />Then this must do. <br />Ah, Lord ! and what a purchase will that be, <br />To take us sick, that sound would not take Thee !<br /><br />Henry Vaughan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-pursuit/
