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.