Page:Songs of exile (IA songsofexile00daviiala).pdf/67

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AM of little worth and poor, apart

From Him, my Glory; and amid the years

My form grows like a shadow; till my heart

Is old, but not by my years' number; lo,

My witnesses:—the number of the years

Of this my sojourning. Nay, but I grow

So old in His forsaking.—If in truth

He shall come back to me amid the years,

Then shall come back to me with Him my youth.