The Wayside Flower
There’s a moral, my child,
In the wayside flower;
There’s an emblem of life
In its short-lived hour.
It smiles in the sunshine
And weeps in the shower,
And the footstep falls
On the wayside flower.
Now see, my dear child,
In the wayside flower,
The joys and the sorrows
Of life’s passing hour.
The footsteps of Time
Hasten on in its power;
And soon we must fall
Like the wayside flower.
Yet know, my dear child,
That the wayside flower
Will revive in its season
And bloom its brief hour;
That again we shall blossom
In beauty and power,
Where the foot never falls
On the wayside flower.