Song 2.17 |The Young Hart

Until the day break I will rest,
And the shadows flee away from my heart.
Turn, my beloved, wake me,
And be thou like a roe, fleet of foot.
Or a young hart, stealthy and silent.
Upon the mountains of Bether, come and find me.

Published by David B. Smith

Author, podcaster, pastor, and Big Pappa to my grandchildren.

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