At A Window

by Carl Sandburg

Give me hunger, 

O you gods that sit and give

the world its orders.

Give me hunger, pain and want, 

shut me out with shame and failure, 

from your doors of gold and fame, 

give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger.

But leave me a little love, 

a voice to speak to me in the day end,

a hand to touch me in the dark room

breaking the long loneliness,

in the dusk of day-shapes

blurring the sunset,

one little wandering, western star

thrust out from the changing shores of shadow.

Let me go to the window,

watch there the day-shapes of dusk

and wait and know the coming

of a little love.


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