Tuesday, May 8, 2001

The Weaver Comments

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My life is but a weaving, between my God and me,
I do not choose the colors, He worketh steadily.
Ofttimes he weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper, and I the underside.
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COMMENTS
Phyllis 08 August 2020

this is a poem written by Corrie Ten Boom

1 0 Reply
Debojyoti 05 August 2019

I want question and answer of the poem

2 3 Reply
Ahmedur 18 September 2018

Needs analysis of the poem weaver

3 1 Reply
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