Feed Me, Also, River God
Lest by diminished vitality and abated vigilance, I become food for crocodiles—for that quicksand of gluttony which is legion. It is there close at hand— on either side of me. You remember the Israelites who said in pride and stoutness of heart: "The bricks are fallen down, we will build with hewn stone, the sycamores are cut down, we will change to cedars"? I am not ambitious to dress stones, to renew forts, nor to match my value in action, against their ability to catch up with arrested prosperity. I am not like them, indefatigable, but if you are a god, you will not discriminate against me. Yet—if you may fulfill none but prayers dressed as gifts in return for your gifts—disregard the request.
This poem is in the public domain.