Inscription
No fair flower blossom'd beneath a shade nor spread its branches in the Everglades, Beauty to the eye fragrance, on the air, No pencil lint could ever make it aught more fair. I've seen it wither on its fragile stem, dropping tint by tint till naught was left of them, Then stooping gently down to the hand of death, gave its beauty for a Spirit's breath. Oh, may I follow thee to that bles'd abode, the home of angels and the Throne of God and sink like thee with hope into the tomb, to rise Immortal from its deepest gloom.
Erected by W. W. Wallace of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
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