II.
If Plenty as much wealth should give, ne'er holding back her hand,
As the swift winds in troubled seas do toss up heaps of sand,
Or as the stars in lightsome nights shine forth on heaven's face,
Yet wretched men would still accuse their miserable case.
Should God, too liberal of His gold, their greedy wishes hear,
And with bright honour them adorn; yet all that nothing were,
Since ravenous minds, devouring all, for more are ready still.
What bridle can contain in bounds this their contentless will,
When filled with riches they retain the thirst of having more?
He is not rich that fears and grieves, and counts himself but poor.'