John Newton (24 July 1725 – 21 December 1807 / London, England)
But One Loaf
When the disciples crossed the lake
With but one loaf on board;
How strangely did their hearts mistake
The caution of their Lord.
The leaven of the Pharisees
Beware, the Saviour said;
They thought, it is because he sees
We have forgotten bread.
It seems they had forgotten too,
What their own eyes had viewed;
How with what scarce sufficed for few,
He fed a multitude.
If five small loaves, by his command,
Could many thousands serve;
Might they not trust his gracious hand,
That they should never starve?
They oft his pow'r and love had known,
And doubtless were to blame;
But we have reason good to own
That we are just the same.
How often has he brought relief,
And every want supplied!
Yet soon, again, our unbelief
Says, Can the Lord provide?
Be thankful for one loaf today,
Though that be all your store;
Tomorrow, if you trust and pray,
Shall timely bring you more.
Comments about this poem (But One Loaf by John Newton )
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