is all: if that I could
                      Get without repining;
                  And My clay, My creature, would
                  Follow My resigning;
                  That as I did freely part
                 With My glory and desert,
                  Left all joys to feel all smart—

     Man.   Ah, no more! Thou break’st my heart!

293   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 dispersàed 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.

294   Love

LOVE bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
       Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
       From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
       If I lack’d anything.

‘A guest,’ I answer’d, ‘worthy to be here:’
       Love said, ‘You shall be he.’
‘I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
       I cannot look on Thee.’
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
       ‘Who made the eyes but I?’

‘Truth, Lord; but I have marr’d them: let my shame
       Go where it doth deserve.’
‘And know you not,’ says Love, ‘Who bore the blame?’
       ‘My dear, then I will serve.’
‘You must sit down,’ says Love, ‘and taste my meat.’
       So I did sit and eat.