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Behold the vale where once beauty slept

Where ancient oaks their vigils kept

Thee once walked meadows fair

Where golden light would kiss the cold air

But see the hands of wrath drew nigh

Mud painted blood of opression and hollowed eyes

They tore the trees they scorched the ground

Filled the native blood with fear and sorrow

No more doth sing the lark at dawn

No more doth bloom the rose unshorn

The rivers turnt black as the sky grew pale

O art thou blind to what is lost?

This land once thine but now bears the cost

The echoes fade as the dusk draws near

And nothing remains but dust and fear

No more doth sing the lark at dawn

No more doth bloom the rose unshorn