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.