Job 29:21

Then I said, ‘I will die in my own house,

I will count my days as the sand.

My root is spread out to the waters.

The dew lies all night on my branch.

My glory is fresh in me.

My bow is renewed in my hand.’

After my words they didn’t speak again.

My speech fell on them.

They waited for me as for the rain.

Their mouths drank as with the spring rain.

I smiled on them when they had no confidence.

They didn’t reject the light of my face.