It was all once bright jewels And glittering sand The oceans have ravaged And strangled the land Waste fills the temples, Dead daughters are born The presses are empty The editors torn Whose husband was the first to fall? Who died the worst death of them all? How many splinters in each separate band? How many stations in the final hand? Now gather up sea shells, And write down brave words Your prayers are unanswered, Your idols absurd The seaweed and the cobweb, Have rotted your sword Your barricades broken, Your enemies lord.