We dare not ask you bless our harvest feast
Till it is spread for poorest and for least.
We dare not bring our harvest gifts to you
Unless our hungry brothers share them too.
Not only at this time, Lord; every day
Those whom you love are dying while we pray.
Teach us to do with less, and so to share
From our abundance more than we can spare.
Now with this harvest plenty round us piled,
Show us the Christ in every starving child;
Speak, as you spoke of old in Galilee,
‘You feed, or your refuse, not them but me!’
Lilian Cox, 1995.
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