A Bowl of…

Twas such the saddened soul lay low,

Heavy burden painted here below

The cupboard twas the latch undone

Twas a bowl be seen, and only one

A bowl of nothing

A bowl bowed so

“No fruit?” twas whispered in quiet stead

“Why empty? Is thy soul unsaid?”

“Why down thy weary head?

Look up! Do see above thy track!

Above the darkened, gloom

Do see a tree of fruit delight!

Full, delicious fruit to bloom!”

And so filled full and full in sight

Oh more than one bowl could bear!

Look up oh weary head, tis fare!