LOVE, like Religion, has its prayer: "Give me this day my daily bread," -- Poor Love, that has so much to bear, So seldom is its hunger fed. It asks for loaves: instead there come In answer, only crust and crumb, And often, as it pleads alone, It gains no other bread than stone. And still it breathes this simple want, Alas, it knows no other prayer, -- Nor ease can lure, nor failure daunt, Nor terrors drive it from its care; Deceived so oft, wouldst thou not guess 'Twould faint for very weariness? Nay, it will plead till prayer be dead, "Give me this day my daily bread!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOHENLINDEN by THOMAS CAMPBELL DIBDIN'S GHOST by EUGENE FIELD THE SONG OF HIAWATHA: HIAWATHA'S DEPARTURE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SONG TOURNAMENT: NEW STYLE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER PRESCIENCE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |