I had been hungry all the years-

I had been hungry all the years-
My noon had come, to dine-
I, trembling, drew the table near
And touched the curious wine.


'T was this on tables I had seen
When turning, hungry, lone,
I looked in windows, for the wealth
I could not hope to own.


I did not know the ample bread,
'T was so unlike the crumb
The birds and I had often shared
In Nature's dining-room.


The plenty hurt me, 't was so new,--
Myself felt ill and odd,
As berry of a mountain bush
Transplanted to the road.


Nor was I hungry; so I found
That hunger was a way
Of persons outside windows,
The entering takes away.