The Spreading Wide My Narrow Hands /

The Sailor Cannot See The North / But Knows The Needle Can.

A Murmur In The Trees - To Note - Not Loud Enough - For Wind - A Star - Not Far Enough To Seek - Nor Near Enough - To Find

God Gave A Loaf To Every Bird, But Just A Crumb To Me.

I Had Been Hungry All The Years- My Noon Had Come, To Dine- I, Trembling, Drew The Table Near And Touched The Curious Wine. 'twas 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, 'twas So Unlike The Crumb The Birds And I Had Often Shared In Nature's Diningroom. The Plenty Hurt Me, 'twas 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.

Spring's First Conviction Is A Wealth Beyond Its Whole Experience.