Father

Father, I cry to thee for bread With hungred longing, eager prayer; Thou hear'st, and givest me instead More hunger and a half-despair. 0 Lord, how long? My days decline, My youth is lapped in memories old; I need not bread alone, but wine- See, cup and hand to thee I hold! And yet thou givest: thanks, O Lord, That still my heart with hunger faints! The day will come when at thy board I sit, forgetting all my plaints. If rain must come and winds must blow, And I pore long o'er dim-seen chart, Yet, Lord, let not the hunger go, And keep the faintness at my heart.