'T WAS in the night the manna fell, That fed the hosts of Israel, Enough for each day's fullest store And largest need—enough, 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...TO HELEN KELLER - HUMANITARIAN, SOCIAL DEMOCRAT, GREAT SOUL by EDWIN MARKHAM VICTOR RAFOLSKI ON ART by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE FIRE OF DRIFTWOOD; DEVEREUX FARM, NEAR MARBLEHEAD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW WILD SWANS by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY OEDIPUS AT COLONUS: OLD AGE by SOPHOCLES THE CATARACT OF LODORE by ROBERT SOUTHEY |