The Temple: Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations/Ungratefulnesse
¶ Ungratefulnesse.
LOrd, with what bountie and rare clemencieHast thou redeem'd us from the grave!If thou hadst let us runne,Gladly had man ador'd the sunne,And thought his god most brave;Where now we shall be better gods then he.
Thou hast but two rare cabinets full of treasure,The Trinitie, and Incarnation:Thou hast unlockt them both,And made them jewels to betrothThe work of thy creationUnto thy self in everlasting pleasure.
The statelier cabinet is the Trinitie,Whose sparkling light accesse denies:Therefore thou dost not showThis fully to us, till death blowThe dust into our eyes:For by that powder thou wilt make us see.
But all thy sweets are packt up in the other;Thy mercies thither flock and flow:That as the first affrights,This may allure us with delights;Because this box we know;For we have all of us just such another.
But man is close, reserv'd, and dark to thee:When thou demandest but a heart,He cavils instantly.In his poore cabinet of boneSinnes have their box apart,Defrauding thee, who gavest two for one.