Explore "Hunger" by Emily Dickinson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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.