Our lives are like the leaves
That waken to the sun;
Some fall from airy heights
Ere Youth has scarce begun;
And some are tempest tost,
By an opposing power,
And driven blindly on
With every passing hour.
Some cling to their support,
In darkness and in light,
And grow from day to day
More perfect, strong, and bright.
God grant that lives and leaves,
When sunny days are past,
May find, from adverse winds,
A resting-place at last.
