I may have swayed with the wind
and whatever was carried upon
but my flower did always turn her face
to from where'er the sun has shone
*
I surely lended eager ears
to the voice of ways unknown
longing ever deep in me for a word
that would move this heart of stone
*
Such feet as mine are set to slip
You might have left me fallen there
instead You poured in oil and wine
dressed my wounds with tender care
*
Let men of sage and knowledge
ply You with riddles as they dare
my grateful tears will wash Your feet
and dry them lovingly with my hair
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