GRATEFULNESS

Thou that hast giv’n so much to me,
Give one thing more, a grateful heart.
See how thy beggar works on thee
                                        By art.

He makes thy gifts occasion more,
And says, If he in this be crossed,
All thou hast giv’n him heretofore
                                        Is lost.

But thou didst reckon, when at first
Thy word our hearts and hands did crave,
What it would come to at the worst
                                       To save.

Perpetual knockings at thy door,
Tears sullying thy transparent rooms,
Gift upon gift, much would have more,
                                     And comes.

This not withstanding, thou wenst on,
And didst allow us all our noise:
Nay thou hast made a sigh and groan
                                         Thy joys.

Not that thou hast not still above
Much better tunes, than groans can make;
But that these country-airs thy love
                                     Did take.

Wherefore I cry, and cry again;
And in no quiet canst thou be,
Till I a thankful heart obtain
                                  Of thee:

Not thankful, when it pleaseth me;
As if thy blessings had spare days:
But such a heart, whose pulse may be
                                       Thy praise.

George Herbert (1593- 1633)