The manna favored Israel's meat, <br />Was gathered day by day; <br />When all the host was served, the heat <br />Melted the rest away. <br /> <br />In vain to hoard it up they tried, <br />Against tomorrow came; <br />It then bred worms and putrefied, <br />And proved their sin and shame. <br /> <br />'Twas daily bread and would not keep, <br />But must be still renewed; <br />Faith should not want a hoard or heap, <br />But trust the Lord for food. <br /> <br />The truths by which the soul is fed, <br />Must thus be had afresh; <br />For notions resting in the head, <br />Will only feed the flesh. <br /> <br />However true, they have no life, <br />Or unction to impart; <br />They breed the worms of pride and strife, <br />But cannot cheer the heart. <br /> <br />Nor can the best experience past, <br />The life of faith maintain; <br />The brightest hope will faint at last, <br />Unless supplied again. <br /> <br />Dear Lord, while we in prayer are found, <br />Do thou the Manna give; <br />O! let it fall on all around, <br />That we may eat and live.<br /><br />John Newton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/manna-hoarded/
