Sheltered

  Through the pines,
  where soft breezes blow,
  through the pines,
  we see traces of snow,
  through the pines,
  where the birds build their nest,
  through the pines,
  a doe and her fawn take rest.
  Into God's arms,
  we can safely go,
  there His shelter He will bestow,
  giving us comfort and sweet rest.
  Remember, when those storms,
  start to blow,
  into God's arms,
  we can safely go.