Did Ever Lord such noble house mentain, As my Lord doth? Or such a noble Table? 'T would breake the back of kings, nay, Monarchs brain To do it. Pish, the Worlds Estate's not able. I'le bet a boast with any that this Bread I eate excells what ever Caesar had. Take earth's Brightst Darlings, in whose mouths all flakes Of Lushous Sweets she hath do croude their Head, Their Spiced Cups, sweet Meats, and Sugar Cakes Are but dry Sawdust to this Living Bread. I'le pawn my part in Christ, this Dainti'st Meate, Is Gall, and Wormwood unto what I eate. The Boasting Spagyrist (Insipid Phlegm, Whose Words out strut the Sky) vaunts he hath rife The Water, Tincture, Lozenge, Gold, and Gem, Of Life itselfe. But here's the Bread of Life. I'le lay my Life, his Aurum Vitae Red Is to my Bread of Life, worse than DEAD HEAD. The Dainti'st Dish of Earthly Cookery Is but to fat the body up in print. This Bread of Life doth feed the Soule, whereby Its made the Temple of Jehovah in't. I'le Venture Heav'n upon't that Low or High That eate this Living Bread shall never dy. This Bread of Life, so excellent, I see The Holy Angells doubtless would, if they Were prone unto base Envie, Envie't mee. But oh! come, tast how sweet it is. I say, I'le Wage my Soule and all therein uplaid, This is the sweetest Bread that e're God made. What wonder's here, that Bread of Life should come To feed Dead Dust? Dry Dust eate Living Bread? Yet Wonder more by far may all, and some That my Dull Heart's so dumpish when thus fed. Lord Pardon this, and feed mee all my dayes, With Living Bread to thy Eternall Prayse. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MOTHER AND POET; TURIN, AFTER THE NEWS FROM GAETA, 1861 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING A WOMAN'S LAST WORD by ROBERT BROWNING SHELTERED GARDEN by HILDA DOOLITTLE THE HUDSON by GEORGE SIDNEY HELLMAN ECHOES: 6 by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY GREEK ARCHITECTURE by HERMAN MELVILLE A TEAMSTER'S FAREWELL by CARL SANDBURG |