Daffodil.

Oh sweet Welsh flower now rest and sleep,
Hide your bulbs Welsh Women weep.
Your men not here they have since gone,
Knee deep entrenched in France's Somme.
Welsh valley's, hills now left behind,
To fight for King and fellow kind.
Oh flower of David yellow bloom,
On March 1st in each Welsh room.
You tell us Spring is almost here,
But men in France are far not near.
They do not see their native flower,
When cannons blast they fear and cower.
In Poppy fields of blood they lie 
Where they once fought and then did die.
Oh sweet welsh flower now rest and sleep,
Your yellow blooms for welsh men keep.