John Denham, Coopers-hill: A Poem (1709)
“ Like profuse Kings, resumes the wealth he gave;No unexpected inundations spoilThe Mowers hopes, nor mock the Plowman's toyl:But Godlike his unweary'd Bounty flows;First loves to do, than loves the Good he does:Nor are his Blessings to his banks confin'd,But free, and common, as the Sea or Wind;When he to boast or to disperse his storesFull of the tributes of his grateful shores,Visits the World, and in his flying towersBrings home to us, and makes both Indies ours;Finds wealth where 'tis, bestows it where it wants,Cities in desarts, Woods in Cities plants. ”
