It is a very nice George F. Root song from 1855 or maybe a bit earlier, though I have seen one comment that the words were actually by Fannie Crosby. I'd have to have more than that to substantiate the claim, though. Here is the sheet music at The Lester S. Levy Collection of Sheet Music: ROSALIE THE PRAIRIE FLOWER and if you are interested in better copies, but have lots of time for them to load, here is the sheet music at Duke.

And, by all means, do visit Benjamin R. Tubb's great music site at http://pdmusic.org/ Here is his George F. Root page of midis and lyrics. Putting in a plug for one of my favorites, do check out his William S. Hayes page, too. Benjamin R. Tubb has put together a wonderful site which helps to keep the old songs alive, and to resurrect some that have been virtually forgotten. We all owe him and others like him (including our own Lesley Nelson) a great debt of gratitude.

Lyrics posted here are borrowed from his site as well.

Rosalie the Prairie Flower
George Frederick Root, 1855

On the distant prairie,
Where the heather wild
In its quiet beauty
Lived and smiled,
Stands a little cottage,
And a creeping vine
Loves around its porch to twine;
In that peaceful dwelling was a lovely child,
With her blue eyes beaming soft and wild,
And the wavy ringlets of her flaxen hair,
Floating in the summer air.

CHORUS
Fair as a lily, joyous and free,
Light of that prairie home was she.
Every one who knew her, felt the gentle power
of Rosalie the prairie flower.

On that distant prairie,
When the days were long,
Tripping like a fairy,
sweet her song,
With the sunny blossoms
And the birds of play,
Beautiful and bright as they;
When the twilight shadows gathered in the west,
And the voice of nature sunk to rest,
Like a cherub kneeling seemed the lovely child,
With her gentle eyes so mild.

CHORUS

But the summer faded,
And a chilly blast,
O'er that happy cottage
swept at last,
When the autumn songbirds
Wake the dewy morn,
Little prairie flower was gone!
For the angels whispered in her ear,
"Child, the Father calls thee; stay not here."
And they gently bore her, robed in spotless white,
To their blissful home of light.

LAST CHORUS
Though we shall never look on her more,
Gone with the love and joy she bore.
Far away she's blooming, in a fadeless bower,
sweet Rosalie the prairie flower.