I had been hungry all the years; My noon had come, to dine; I, trembling, drew the table near, And touched the curious wine. 'T was this on tables I had seen, When turning, hungry, lone, I looked in windows, for the wealth I could not hope to own. I did not know the ample bread, 'T was so unlike the crumb The birds and I had often shared In Nature's dining-room. The plenty hurt me, 't was so new, -- Myself felt ill and odd, As berry of a mountain bush Transplanted to the road. Nor was I hungry; so I found That hunger was a way Of persons outside windows, The entering takes away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: JOHN SCOFIELD by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOLES BORED IN A WORKBAG BY THE SCISSORS by MARIANNE MOORE THE SAGA OF THE SMALL-BREASTED WOMAN by KAREN SWENSON AFTER THE RAIN by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE DREAM by GEORGE GORDON BYRON FIVE EYES by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE |