<h2><SPAN name="chap10"></SPAN>HUNGER</h2>
<p class="poem">
I’ve been a hopeless sinner, but I understand a saint,<br/>
Their bend of weary knees and their contortions long and faint,<br/>
And the endless pricks of conscience, like a hundred thousand pins,<br/>
A real perpetual penance for imaginary sins.<br/>
<br/>
I love to wander widely, but I understand a cell,<br/>
Where you tell and tell your beads because you’ve nothing else to tell,<br/>
Where the crimson joy of flesh, with all its wild fantastic tricks,<br/>
Is forgotten in the blinding glory of the crucifix.<br/>
<br/>
I cannot speak for others, but my inmost soul is torn<br/>
With a battle of desires making all my life forlorn.<br/>
There are moments when I would untread the paths that I have trod.<br/>
I’m a haunter of the devil, but I hunger after God.<br/></p>
<p class="left">
GAMALIEL BRADFORD</p>
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