Classic Poem

If mine's the tree, the leaves were mine,
But they from all his boughs are fled;
If mine's the field, the tree was mine,
But that is weather-wreck'd and dead.

If mine's the stream, the water's mine,
But yet for me it will not stay;
I cannot keep me all that's mine;
As God may will it goes away.

But if I lose the leaves of mine,
The spring gives new ones to the twig;
And if I lose a tree of mine,
My sapling groweth on treebig.

If I lose water that is mine,
More follows to me from above;
And if the Lord may take of mine
He well can make it good in love.