Treasure Island

Jones Very

(28 August 1813 – 8 May 1880 / Salem, Massachusetts)

He Gave Me No Meat


My brother, I am hungry,—give me food
Such as my Father gives me at his board;
He has for many years been to thee good,
Thou canst a morsel then to me afford;
I do not ask of thee a grain of that
Thou offerest when I call on thee for bread;
This is not of the wine nor olive fat,
But those who eat of this like thee are dead;
I ask the love the Father has for thee,
That thou should'st give it back to me again;
This shall my soul from pangs of hunger free,
And on my parched spirit fall like rain;
Then thou wilt prove a brother to my need,
For in the cross of Christ thou too canst bleed.

Submitted: Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (He Gave Me No Meat by Jones Very )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. I'll pray you never run away, Mark Heathcote
  2. See and please come, gajanan mishra
  3. The Wind, Sara Militello
  4. Death.. My Ultimate Inspiration, Ruma Chaudhuri
  5. Further Trivializing Their Quick To Get .., Lawrence S. Pertillar
  6. let's get whimsical..., Mandolyn ...
  7. Mute, I Am Krakatoa
  8. Nuptial Vow, Tony Adah
  9. PIGHEADEDNESS 10 WORD, Beryl Dov
  10. mystic myth, subash parajuli

Poem of the Day

poet Robert Burns

When biting Boreas, fell and doure,
Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r;
When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r,
Far south the lift,
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet Jessie Pope

 
[Hata Bildir]