My Daily Bread by Delwin Rees Buckner

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Aug 19, 1913

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 40, No. 32.

My Daily Bread

By Delwin Rees Buckner

Crisp crust of whitest pounded, powdered wheat, For thee I strove till sun sank in the west, While bleeding sweat swept down my swarthy breast; Restorer of my strength, my daily meat, Of all the varied viands which I eat, Thou art the morsel which I deem the best, Choice prize, transformed within an oven nest, And purified by its perfecting heat.

Thou answerest the earnest, urgent prayer Which constantly my lip with longings speaks To Him who calls us children, and will bless Our faith, not raining manna through the air, Perhaps, or sending crums in raven beaks, But still miraculously, none the less.

Diamante, Argentina.