There's a black fog hiding London
And every tree looks dead,
But I've seen a purple crocus and a jonquil's golden head.
The shallow ponds are frozen
And there's snow upon the hills,
But they're selling scarlet tulips now and yellow daffodils.

A bitter wind is blowing,
The rivers are abrim,
But I toss my head at Winter, I am not afraid of him.
Although the sun is shrouded
Spring is just across the sea,
For I've seen a spray of lilac and a red anemone.