Our Daily Bread
“GIVE us our daily bread,” we pray,And know but half of what we say.
The bread on which our bodies feedIs but the moiety of our need.
The soul, the heart, must nourished be,And share the daily urgency.
And though it may be bitter breadOn which these nobler parts are fed,
No less we crave the daily dole,O Lord, of body and of soul!
Sweet loaves, the wine-must all afoam,The manna, and the honey-comb,—
All these are good, but better stillThe food which checks and moulds the will.
The sting for pride, the smart for sin,The purging draught for self within,
The sorrows which we shuddering meet,Not knowing their after-taste of sweet,—
All these we ask for when we pray,“Give us our daily bread this day.”
Lord, leave us not athirst, unfed;Give us this best and hardest bread,
Until, these mortal needs all past,We sit at thy full feast at last,
The bread of angels broken by thee,The wine of joy poured constantly.
Words in this poem
- crave v. t.
- To ask with earnestness or importunity; to ask with submission or humility; to beg; to entreat; to beseech; to implore. [AS. crafian; akin to Icel. krefia, Sw. kr, Dan. kr.]
- afoam adv.
- In a foaming state; as, the sea is all afoam. [Pref. a- + foam.]
- athirst a.
- Wanting drink; thirsty. [OE. ofthurst, AS. ofpyrsted, p. p. of ofpyrstan; pref. of-, intensive + pyrstan to thirst. See Thirst.]
- needs adv.
- Of necessity; necessarily; indispensably; -- often with must, and equivalent to of need. [Orig. gen. of need, used as an adverb. Cf. - wards.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Our Daily Bread is in the public domain. This text is taken from A Few More Verses, Project Gutenberg ebook #49518; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Susan Coolidge, Our Daily Bread, in A Few More Verses (1889), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #49518, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/coolidge-few-more-verses/our-daily-bread.html, id L23476.
Form and metre
Our Daily Bread is 26 lines in 13 stanzas of 2 lines each. It is in rhyming couplets, 85% of the lines: octosyllabic couplets. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%).
See other poems in octosyllabic couplets, other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AA prayA · sayA
- 2 AA feedA · needA
- 4 AA breadA · fedA
- 5 AA doleA · soulA
- 6 AA afoamA · combA
- 7 AA stillA · willA
- 8 AA sinA · withinA
- 9 AA meetA · sweetA
- 10 AA prayA · dayA
- 11 AA unfedA · breadA
- 12 AA pastA · lastA
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| “GIVE us our daily bread,” we pray, | 8 | ··//˘··· |
| And know but half of what we say. | 8 | ········ |
| The bread on which our bodies feed | 8 | ····//˘· |
| Is but the moiety of our need. | 9 | ···/˘˘·/· |
| The soul, the heart, must nourished be, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And share the daily urgency. | 8 | ···/˘/˘˘ |
| And though it may be bitter bread | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| On which these nobler parts are fed, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| No less we crave the daily dole, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| O Lord, of body and of soul! | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Sweet loaves, the wine-must all afoam, | 8 | ······˘/ |
| The manna, and the honey-comb,— | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| All these are good, but better still | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The food which checks and moulds the will. | 8 | ········ |
| The sting for pride, the smart for sin, | 8 | ········ |
| The purging draught for self within, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| The sorrows which we shuddering meet, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Not knowing their after-taste of sweet,— | 8 | ·/······ |
| All these we ask for when we pray, | 8 | ········ |
| “Give us our daily bread this day.” | 8 | ··//˘··· |
| Lord, leave us not athirst, unfed; | 8 | ····˘/·˘ |
| Give us this best and hardest bread, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Until, these mortal needs all past, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| We sit at thy full feast at last, | 8 | ········ |
| The bread of angels broken by thee, | 9 | ···/˘/˘·· |
| The wine of joy poured constantly. | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.