Give me hunger, O you gods that sit and give The world its orders. Give me hunger, pain and want; Shut me out with shame and failure From your doors of gold and fame, Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger. But leave me a little love; A voice to speak to me in the day-end, A hand to touch me in the dark room, Breaking the long loneliness. In the dusk of day-shapes, Blurring the sunset, One little wandering, western star Thrust out from the changing shores of shadow. Let me go to the window, Watch there the day-shapes of dusk, And wait and know the coming Of a little love. |