Classic Poem

I HAVE been hungry all my days —
(Oh, when shall I be fed?)
They saw my pinched and wistful gaze,
And some there were gave wine and bread,
And some gave love and praise.

I was as hungry as before —
(Oh, when shall I be fed?)
Good souls! they shared their choicest store,
Another had been surfeited —
I did but hunger more.

I am an ingrate in all eyes —
(Oh, when shall I be fed?)
From their best feasts I famished rise,
I dream of tables ampler spread —
O tables of the skies!