Poem by John Newton

Manna Hoarded

The manna favored Israel's meat,
Was gathered day by day;
When all the host was served, the heat
Melted the rest away.

In vain to hoard it up they tried,
Against tomorrow came;
It then bred worms and putrefied,
And proved their sin and shame.

'Twas daily bread and would not keep,
But must be still renewed;
Faith should not want a hoard or heap,
But trust the Lord for food.

The truths by which the soul is fed,
Must thus be had afresh;
For notions resting in the head,
Will only feed the flesh.

However true, they have no life,
Or unction to impart;
They breed the worms of pride and strife,
But cannot cheer the heart.

Nor can the best experience past,
The life of faith maintain;
The brightest hope will faint at last,
Unless supplied again.

Dear Lord, while we in prayer are found,
Do thou the Manna give;
O! let it fall on all around,
That we may eat and live. 

1. Joy and Peace in Believing
2. They Shall Be Mine, Saith the Lord
3. Quiet, Lord, My Froward Heart
4. Belshazzar
5. Pleading for Mercy

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