That only can produce consummate joy,
Which equals all the pow'rs it would employ;
Such fitting object to each talent giv'n,
Earth cannot fit what was design'd for heav'n.
Why then is man with gifts sublimest fraught,
And active will and comprehensive thought?
For what is all this waste of mental force?
What! for a house, a coach, a dog, a horse?
Has nature's lord inverted nature's plan?
Is man now made for what was made for man?