Nobody knows this little Rose.
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to Thee. -
Only a Bee will miss it -
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey
On it's breast - to lie -
Only a Bird - will wonder -
Only a Breeze will sigh,
Ah, little Rose!
How Easy, for such as thee, to die!