“A nibbler at the cosmic crust,
A sipper at the fount—
Great God, I am a thing of dust
Thine eyes will scarce account.

“Oh, to bite deep the loaf of things!
Oh, once my body give
Unto the bright and primal springs,
And rise and breathe and live!”

Man, look unto thy neighbour's fare,
Reach crust and cup along,
Or start upon the fevered air
Some heart-refreshing song,

And thou shalt marvel that all things
Thy heart hath learned to give,
Are whiter loaves and purer springs
Wherefrom to rise and live!