As mountains stay in solid made,
as valleys play in given grade,
in times of troubles I made up
my mind I would not stand the cup.
And stirred to basic is the stone
from meeting weather all alone.
And shaken is the valley, poor
from having weather at the door.
Still, truly I was on my own
this way to be revealed and known.
And Jesus, always in my mind,
saw to it I became a kind.
To beast insanely bothersome,
May lily I have now become,
for sure not for the beast to eat
and to the eyes a lovely treat.