There's many a path your feet may take,
O'er hill or vale or plain,
By noisy streamlet or lonely lake
Where only the winds a murmur make,
And silence falls like rain.

But wherever the foot of man may go,
Or shoulders bear their load,
In joy or sorrow, in mirth or woe,
There's an end to every road, we know,
And God's at the end of the road.