 | Under Green Leaves |  |
209
MANNA.
I
To nourish wandering IsraelIn peril, hardship, and distress,
For forty years the manna fell,
A wonder in the wilderness;
Each morn, from fruitful skies above,
The bounty on the earth was pour'd;
And daily proofs of Heavenly love
Proclaim'd the goodness of the Lord.
II
And in our years of later time,Shall we believe that nevermore
Is open'd up the fount sublime,
Which flow'd with miracles of yore?
210
Dead is the heart that knows not well—
In every boon a mystery,
In every gift a miracle.
III
For us the plenteous clouds distilThe nursing dew, the fruitful rain,
That swells the vintage of the hill,
Or feeds the corn-fields of the plain;
For us the skies pour fatness down;
For us, beyond our power of thought,
Unutter'd unperceived, unknown,
A daily miracle is wrought.
IV
For us a world with blessings rifeSupplies the constant boons of Heaven;
Health, Reason, Love, Hope, Joy, and Life,
Are wonders wrought—are Manna given.
211
Unbind our eyes that we may see,
The wondrous love Thy works reveal—
And that we perish but for Thee.
| Under Green Leaves | |