How stilly, yet how sweetly,

The little while they bloom,

They teach us quiet trustfulness,

Allure our hearts from selfishness,

And smile away our gloom:

So do they prove that heavenly love

Doth every path illume.

How stilly, yet how sadly,

When summer fleeteth by,

And their sweet work of life is done,

They fall and wither, one by one,

And undistinguished lie:

So warning all that pride must fall,

And fairest forms must die.

How stilly, yet how surely,

They all will come again

In life and glory multiplied,

To bless the ground wherein they died,

And long have darkly lain:

So we may know, e’en here below,

Death has no lasting reign.