This poem by Vaughan speaks of both our human desire for continual activity (not a new phenomenon), and the blessing of fatigue, something that God has given us as a way to "come to ourselves," as the Parable of the Prodigal puts it, so that we might return to God's embrace. Something to ponder in our ever-more technological society.
By Henry Vaughan (1621-1695)
Lord! What a busy, restless thing
Hast thou made man!
Each day and hour he is on wing,
Rests not a span;
Then having lost the Sun and light
By clouds surprised
He keeps a commerce in the night
With air disguised;
Hadst thou given to this active dust
A state untired,
The lost son had not left the husk
Nor home desired;
That was thy secret, and it is
Thy mercy too,
For when all fails to bring to bliss,
Then, this must do.
Ah! Lord! And what a purchase will that be
To take us sick, that sound would not take thee!
“… commerce in the night” –A reference to our study of the stars, or work by artificial light
“The lost son…” –A reference to the parable of the Prodigal Son, Luke 15