The beauty of the rose is in the bud
Fresh is the flower being born
The scent of youth is strong and good;
Sweet as the dew of a summer morn
The beauty of the leaf is in the fall
When colors burn in fiery blaze
Orange and yellow; crimson all
Mellow; the ending of its days
The beauty of man is flower and leaf
Newborn babe and ancient wise
Beginning joy and ending grief
Innocent and knowing eyes
We are fragile as the flowers,
Stronger than the mighty oak;
In our sad and lonely hours
Words of love and faith are smoke
Let us comfort one another
Like infant held in wrinkled hands
Brother, sister, father, mother;
Spring and autumn on the land
Burning leaves and budding blooms
There is beauty in the plan
Old age for youth is making room
And Mother Nature understands
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