Of
those your enemies
You
make your footstool
I
am as a beast before you
It
is of those who know
Their
own deceit
You
make your crown
I
am as a leaf in the wind
Torn
from a life-tree
I
am as a feather in the air
Plucked
from a falling bird
My
life for all its worth
Is
truly wholly yours
And
my heart set against you
My
assurance I am with you
For
I know my end
And
I am glad.
*
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