Flowers are emblems of our youth,
Emblems of innocence and truth,
For though their freshness must decay,
Their fragrance will not pass away.
So, youthful beauty soon must fail;
The eye grow dim, the cheek grow pale;
The brow that now is pure and fair,
May soon be shaded o'er by care.

But if within the trusting heart
Goodness and innocence have part;
If we God's holy law fulfil,
And bow submissive to his will,
Then shall the heart, like some sweet flow'r,
That's lightly pluck'd from beauty's bow'r,
And rudely crush'd beneath the feet,
Yield fragrance far more pure and sweet
Than when in sunshine and the dew,
A fair and beauteous flow'r it grew,