The leaves upon the summer tree Hang side by side, But winter's breath will scatter them All far and wide. E'en thus, together have our lots been cast, And so for us the parting comes at last. But He who clothes the summer tree Or makes it bare, Lets not the frailest blossom fall Without His care. So, ever 'neath His guiding hand, may we Together or apart, safe, sheltered be. |