19 My roots will reach to the water, and the dew will lie all night on my branches.
20 My glory will not fade; the bow will be ever new in my hand.’
21 “People listened to me expectantly, waiting in silence for my counsel.
22 After I had spoken, they spoke no more; my words fell gently on their ears.
23 They waited for me as for showers and drank in my words as the spring rain.
24 When I smiled at them, they scarcely believed it; the light of my face was precious to them.