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Elijah

A little cake he ask'd for, that was all;
And that she gave - 'twas all she had to give
To the poor hungry Prophet fugitive;
Not knowing quite, she yet believed the call,

And she was blest. Within her cottage wall,
By day the Prophet prays, at night he lies,
Whose prayer and presence daily multiplies
The meal and cruse that, let what will befall,

Shall still suffice for each successive day.
She gave a little, and he gave enough,
And taught us how to use the passive stuff

That earth affords, - to give and still to pray.
Hope be the Prophet, and the cruse Content!
Where Hope abides the cruse shall ne'er be spent.