Rosalie, the Prarie Flower


H. J. Wehman, Song Publisher, 50 Chatham St., New York.

Rosalie, the Prairie Flower

On the distant prairie where the heather wild,
In its quiet beauty lived and smiled,
Stands a little cottage, and a creeping vine,
Loves around its porch to twine;
In that peaceful dwelling was a lovely child,
With her blue eyes beaming soft and mild,
And the wavy ringlets of her flaxen hair,
Floating in the Summer air.

On the distant prairie, when the days were long,
Tripping like a fairy, sweet her song,
With the sunny blossoms and the birds at play,
Beautiful and light as they.
When the twilight shadows gathered in the West,
And the voice of nature sunk to rest,
Like a cherub kneeling seemed the lovely child,

But the Summer faded, and a chilly blast
O’er that happy cottage swept at last,
When the Autumn song birds woke the dewy morn,
Little Prairie Flower was gone.
For the angels whispered softly in her ear—
“Child, thy Father calls thee, stay not here,”
And they gently bore her, robed in spotless white,

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