Thro’ changing years, in joy and tears,
                                        
                                        The changeless One abides,
                                        
                                        And safe the soul from doubt and fears
                                        
                                        That in His bosom hides.
                                        
                                        On noisy street, in still retreat,
                                        
                                        Thro’ vales of deepest shade,
                                        
                                        That voice is heard with accents sweet,
                                        
                                        “My child, be not afraid.”