Read "The Poet's Feast" by Thomas Gordon Hake online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
The golden feast for jovial souls prepare / Whose wants the wants of nature far exceed; / The nectar of the sun such palates need; / To them the fatted calf is vulgar fare. / Earth's dripping fruits may wandering Arabs share / Pleased with the pulp and juice whereon they feed; / And bread alone is still the poor man's meed, / Though milk abound and honey be to spare. / So dreams the Poet, with his crust content: / The crumbs that from the rich man's table fall / To him are sorry signs of merriment / To show the world has food enough for all. / At festive boards he has but little part- / To him 'twas given to feed on his own heart.