Stay in, stay in, O flowers, stay in,
Spring can't begin, it can't begin!
For wild rough March rides all about,
Don't put your little noses out;
Small heads should keep safe under ground,
Or March will catch you riding round.

Come out, come out, O flowers, come out!
Wild March is gone with rush and shout,
And April's eager now to play,
Come out, for March rode far away,
And Spring is dancing all around
Come up, dear seeds, above the ground!
 
By Annette Wynne.