'T WAS in the night the manna fell, That fed the hosts of Israel, Enough for each day's fullest store And largest needenough, no more. For wilful waste, for prideful show, God sent not angels' food below. Still in our nights of deep distress The manna falls our hearts to bless. And, famished, as we cry for bread, With heavenly food our lives are fed. And each day's need finds each day's store Enough. Dear Lord, what want we more? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ESTRANGEMENT by WILLIAM WATSON AS THE NEW YEAR [18 B.C.] DAWNED by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 35 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH A RAIN-DREAM by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT INDIAN LEGEND by VIRGINIA CONNETT |