Classic Poem

Gold I can give—and what would it avail thee?
—'Tis manna that thou askest, not a stone.
How can'st thou learn, when all thy visions fail thee,
—To live by bread alone?

I cannot grant thee one brief glimpse of heaven,
—I cannot stay the tears that thou must weep.
Loved, lost in life, I cannot bid thee even
—Forget thy woes in sleep.