Came a splendid golden sun
Across the darkened sky
Woke the bondsman from his dream
As it fell upon his eyes

Lit the ways of freedom's path
Sent forth the singing lark
Bore a weeping blossom upon
Those flowers in the dark

Bloomed by country lane and town
In freedom's fragrant scent
Giving heart to a weary folk
When a dark days came and went

Grew they strong and beautiful
Midst fortune cold and stark
Fairest flowers of their kind
Roses in the dark

Winds of war came sweeping cruel
But the blossom would not cry
How it broke freeman's heart
To see the first rose die

Soldiers plucked the garden's joy
And left a burning mark
Upon the silver petalled bloom
Those flowers in the dark

Flowers weep in dank cold cells
No sun to light their gloom
Suffer torture's vilest scorn
Wither in their bloom

There they yield these lovely things
Oh, hear the freedom's mark
They are the light to guide the poor
These flowers in the dark

Care not should we freemen die
Just to see the garden flower
Humble bluebell lifts its head
Rise in all its power

Hold a tear, torn sore in heart
'Twere a Joan of Arc
Each one of these saintly flowers
Who be in dungeons dark