I shall be patient in the dreary atmosphere,
Weary of these damp and dark fraught days, for I know
God is watering the Jonquils.
Soon red buds will peek through the thunder,
Chartreuse leaves will line baby trees, for
God is watering the Jonquils.
Through the winds and fear and booming storms,
All nature will dance and all will be right,
For God has watered the Jonquils.
And the Jonquils will bloom.
