Classic Poem

" AND THE BARREL OF MEAL WASTED NOT, NEITHER DID THE CRUSE
OF OIL FAIL ACCORDING TO THE WORD OF THE LORD WHICH HE SPAKE
BY ELIJAH — 1 Kings xvii. 16.

How rich is poverty's scant hoard,
When God hath bless'd its lot!
How poor the heaps that wealth has stored,
If He hath bless'd them not! —
Witness proud Ahab's regal dome,
And the poor widow's humble home.

There dwelt she, with sufficient food
For nature's simple calls;
While fear and caution sentries stood
Beside the monarch's walls: —
Her cruse by power unseen was fed,
Her meal supplied their daily bread.

Is there no cruse whose store should feed
Devotion's hallow'd fire?
No living bread, whose daily need
Our deathless souls require?
Are there not seasons when we sigh
In secret o'er our scant supply?

Be ours the faith the widow knew,
When she the seer supplied,
So shall we own the promise true,
God's goodness will provide;
The meal shall last, the cruse fail not
Till plenty be our spirits' lot.