Levantlamantliad
The sun was bright when the world was young,
The sun was bright when the world was young, We praised the good Lord who gave us the sun, The dragon slain beneath the blood barred white, The slayers of Christ by Paul’s true tounged might. We were glorious once by the new apple tree, Ours was the Lord’s, His, the mountains and sea, He bade us plant, cultivate too, and till, And Eden grew from Zion’s holy hill. The scimitar dropped, a tear from the moon, Red blood lapped at the farthest sand dune, The Devil laughed, thinking his chains broke In waste and from, a blind wyvern woke. The rats crawled from some creviced nook, Their cracked heart called for all that God took, Creation groans from its green-golden drain, They steal our labor, Lord, make their’s too vain. Brighter the sun when the world is old, We worship Our Lord, whom our woes fortold: The green scaled serpent tramples the pure, The liers of old lie again on our shore. We are glorious still, though we dwindle and die, Ours is the Lord’s, His, the Earth and the Sky, By the Cross and nails and crown of thorn, We fight, we sleep, will we see the morn?
This also serves as a song for the British. Light a nightlight,