NOT BY BREAD ALONE
If thou of fortune be bereft,
And thou dost find but two loaves left
To thee sell one, and with the dole
Buy hyacinths to feed thy soul.
But not alone does beauty bide
Where bloom and tint and fragrance hide;
The minstrel's melody may feed
Perhaps a more insistent need.
But even beauty, howe'er blent
To ear and eye, fails to content;
Only the heart, with love afire,
Can satisfy the soul's desire.
JAMES TERRY WHITE