Whose foam is amber, and their gravel gold;
His genuin and less guilty wealth t’explore,
Search not his bottom, but survey his shoar;
O’er which he kindly spreads his spacious wing,
And hatches plenty for th’ ensuing spring.
Nor then destroys it with too fond a stay,
Like mothers which their infants overlay.
Nor with a sudden and impetuous wave,
Like profuse Kings, resume the wealth he gave.
No unexpected inundations spoil