There is going to be a dance,
I can feel it in the air-
What kind of frock will the daffodil wear?
Gold for the sun and green for the clover;
Spring is on the way
And the winter’s nearly over.
A soft little wind
Out behind the hill
Is practising tunes
For the shy daffodil.
He daren’t start yet
To play with all his might;
He daren’t start yet,
For the time isn’t right;
He daren’t start yet,
For the frocks aren’t made,
And the fairy needles flash
In the green forest glade.
Green thread, gold thread, laughing all together-
Heigh for the dance and the bright spring weather.
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