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 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
As berry of a mountain bush
Transplanted to the road
Nor was I hungry
So I felt
That hunger was a way
Of persons outside windows
The entering takes away
Of persons outside windows
That the entering takes away