The child leans on its parent’s breast,

Leaves there its cares, and is at rest;

The bird sits singing by his nest,

And tells aloud

His trust in God, and so is blest

’Neath every cloud.

2 He has no store, he sows no seed;

Yet sings aloud, and doth not heed;

By flowing stream or grassy mead,

He sings to shame

Men, who forget, in fear of need,

A Father’s name.

3 The heart that trusts for ever sings,

And feels as light as it had wings;

A well of peace within it springs:

Come good or ill,

Whate’er to-day, to-morrow brings,

It is his will!