1 "But now those younger than I mock me, Whose fathers I disdained to put with the dogs of my flock.
2 "Indeed, what good was the strength of their hands to me? Vigor had perished from them.
3 "From want and famine they are gaunt Who gnaw the dry ground by night in waste and desolation,
4 Who pluck mallow by the bushes, And whose food is the root of the broom shrub.