Peeping from beneath the tree,

The lemon primrose spoke to me.

Winter's done, I heard it say,

Warmer days are on the way.

 

Mother Nature waits on me

(The "First Rose" is my name you see) 

While other flowers stay in bed

I welcome spring and show my head.

 

Then, with the golden daffodil,

I gild the countryside until

In turn, the other blooms appear,

Assured that summer's lease is near.

 

Peeping from beneath the tree,

I heard the primrose speak to me.

When nature lives her life anew,

You'll hear the primrose speak to you.

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