W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.
Whence Shall We Buy Bread?
Edward Hayes Plumptre (18211891)T
And o’er the listening crowd,
There falls the boding of the evening chill,
And mist of thickening cloud.
Hearing the news of joy?
Where in this town, that village, gather food
For woman, man, and boy?
Half-fainting by the way,
Through darkness pressing with bewildering haste,
Down sinking ere the day.
Still waiting for His hand;
Or, healed that very day, can hardly find
Their strength to walk or stand.
Five thousand in the wild,
And satisfied the hungry souls with bread,
And all their fears beguiled.
When man’s resources fail,
And spread His banquet by the lonely lake,
In grassy upland vale?
For all that crowd provide,
The bread and fish still growing more and more,
Till none are unsupplied?
The olive oil and wine,
Who guides the seasons of the circling year
Through every changing sign,
The magic of the spring,
Seed-time and harvest in one act embrace,
And home the full sheaves bring.
With bounties full and free,
And calms the waters when the thunder rolls,
And storms-blasts sweep the sea.
When lo! He gave us bread;
Calm breezes lulled the waters surging high,
And all our terrors fled.
To weary souls and faint;
They gather round, the greatest and the least,
The sinner and the saint.
The fragments that remain,
And peasant’s meal, if He but bless and break,
Whole thousands can sustain
We treasure what is left;
His joy, once known, can never wholly flee,
Though we’re of all bereft.
Not knowing where we go;
That food sustains us through the dark hour’s chill
Until the morning glow.