A poem by George Herbert

Let the world's riches, which disperséd lie, Contract into a span.

I am behind on translating and editing footage of translator interviews. I apologize. In the meantime, here is George Herbert’s poem The Gifts of God:

      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 disperséd 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.