| I planted a little rose bush,
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| I tended it with care,
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| It’s buds began to blossom
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| Their fragrance filled the air
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| But when winter came it withered,
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| The petals drooped and fell to the ground,
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| My heart sank as it faded,
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| But I’d forgotten who had made it.
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| Roses will bloom again,
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| Just wait and see
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| Don’t mourn what might have been
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| Only God knows how and when that
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| Roses will bloom again.
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| Rose was his only sweetheart,
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| A loving wife for forty years.
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| Cherished every day they had,
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| And held memories oh so dear
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| He never dreamed he’s bore love
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| And go to live alone,
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| But he lay his Rose to rest,
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| Looked up to heaven and tried his best
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| To believe that
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| MUSICAL INTERLUDE
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| The precious Rose of Sharon,
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| Broken and bruised in cruel shame,
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| Stained on the cross of Calvary,
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| So that men might be saved,
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| Oh, Satan cheered as He died,
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| While Mary and the others cried,
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| Then God raised Him up from that sleep
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| And kept a promise only He could keep. |