Book III, 89: On heavenly Manna

O What a world of heav'nly Manna falls
Within the Circuit of our happy Walls!
With how great Ioy wold neighb'ring lands receive
The Fragments of those Fragments, that we leave!
Our furnisht Markets flourish all the yeare:
We need no Ephaths, nor yet Omers here:
We take, unmeasur'd, from the bounteous heape;
Thanks never were so deare: not that, so cheape:
We never hoard, but tosse from hand to hand,
As if that Famine had forsworne the Land;
Our satiate stomacks are so lavish fed,
That we ev'n sleight, and wanton with our Bread:
Ah Lord! I feare when carelesse children play
With their spoyl'd Bread, 'tis time to take away.