From head to foot he came forth healed, without a sore.”
If these poor rhyming verses covered heaven’s vast vault,
They’d not tell half a tithe, they still would be at fault.
The sum of heavenly joys I find an endless theme;
My heart is far too narrow to embrace its scheme.200
The world I would enclose in my poor poem’s fold,
Has lent my thoughts the wings that make their flight so bold.
Were but that world in sight; its road, were it but known;
Few souls would here remain, were but its glories shown.
Commandment has been given: “Thou shalt not covetous be.”