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The Flower Gatherer

Seamstress of spring won't sew today
She's woven into a bride
Not until she births an heir
Will another Gatherer be tried

Oh, the glen is left without a child
No one to smell the gentle dill of life

Widow of life now rides with Christ
For it's their wedding day
With all our angels now in heaven
Won't our roses fade?

I am going to a city where the streets with gold are laid
Where the tree of life is blooming and the roses never fade

Perennial in nature is our time
Old under the sun
If we wait for Gatherer to appear
He may've already come

Oh, the glen is left without a child
No one to smell the gentle dill of life

Loved ones gone to be with Jesus in their robes of white arrayed
Now are waiting for my coming where the roses never fade

Here they bloom for but a season
Soon their beauty is decayed
I am going to a city where the roses never fade