I remember clearly when I realized that you were ours,
I came to bring you home, and stopping on the way, I bought some flowers,
And I remember clearly your post-natal day
When I, the Nuns and Nurses pinned on you my small bouquet
Your mother I did equally adorn -
What flowers did I bring our dear first-born?
Were they daffodils presaging spring’s sweet-springing?
Enchanted April, wakening to small birds singing?
Our small bird, our pretty bird courageously has flown -
Wherever she may fly, she’s still our own.