So Much One Man Can Do That

My Mind Was Once The True Survey Of All These Meadows Fresh And Gay; And In The Greenness Of The Grass Did See Its Hopes As In A Glass.

How Could Such Sweet And Wholesome Hours Be Reckoned, But In Herbs And Flowers?

Annihilating All That's Made, To A Green Thought In A Green Shade.

How Vainly Men Themselves Amaze To Win The Palm, The Oak, Or Bays; And Their Uncessant Labours See Crown'd From Some Single Herb Or Tree. Whose Short And Narrow Verged Shade Does Prudently Their Toils Upbraid; While All Flow'rs And All Trees Do Close To Weave The Garlands Of Repose.

Thus, Though We Cannot Make Our Sun Stand Still, Yet We Will Make Him Run