# 579

I had been hungry, all the years --
My Noon had Come -- to dine --
I trembling drew the Table near --
And touched the Curious Wine --

'Twas this on Tables I had seen --
When turning, hungry, Home
I looked in Windows, for the Wealth
I could not hope -- for Mine --

I did not know the ample Bread --
'Twas so unlike the Crumb
The Birds and I, had often shared
In Nature's -- Dining Room --

The Plenty hurt me --'twas so new --
Myself felt ill -- and odd--
As Berry -- of a Mountain Bush --
Transplanted -- to the Road --

Nor was I hungry -- so I found
That Hunger -- was a way
Of Persons outside Windows --
The Entering -- takes away --