For lo, what changes time can bring!
The cycles of revolving years May free my heart from all its fears, And teach my lips a song to sing.
Before yon field of trembling gold Is garnered into dusty sheaves, Or ere the autumn's scarlet leaves Flutter as birds adown the wold, I may have run the glorious race, And caught the torch while yet aflame, And called upon the holy name Of Him who now doth hide His face.