Our rosebud of promise has withered away—
How cheerless and sad is our heart;
‘Twas a peerless exotic, and day after day,
With untiring care, we watched it decay,
And grieved that with it we must part.
Yet faith, the dark valley of death doth illume;
And cheers up the spirit cast down,
And says, though our Josie be laid in the tomb,
Yet her glorified spirit in unfading bloom,
Shall be a gem in the Savior’s crown.
Chilton Times – December 29, 1877
Our rosebud of promise has withered away—
How cheerless and sad is our heart;
‘Twas a peerless exotic, and day after day,
With untiring care, we watched it decay,
And grieved that with it we must part.
Yet faith, the dark valley of death doth illume;
And cheers up the spirit cast down,
And says, though our Josie be laid in the tomb,
Yet her glorified spirit in unfading bloom,
Shall be a gem in the Savior’s crown.
Chilton Times – December 29, 1877
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