Lyrics:

There came a splendid golden sun,

Across the darkened skies,

It woke the bondsman from his dream

As it fell upon his eyes.

It lit the ways of freedom's path

Sent forth the singing lark

And bore a weeping blossom 'pon

The flowers in the dark.



They bloomed by country lane and town

In freedom's fragrant scent,

Giving heart to a weary folk

When dark days came and went.

And grew they strong and beautiful

Midst fortune cold and stark

The fairest flowers of their kind

These roses of the dark.



The winds of war came sweeping cruel

The blossom would not cry.

Oh how it broke the freeman's heart

To see the first rose die.

Some soldiers plucked the garden's joy

And left a burning mark

Upon the silver petalled bloom

Now fettered in the dark.



These flowers weep in dank cold cells

No sun to light the gloom

They suffer torture's vilest scorn

To wither in their bloom.

But e'er they yield these lovely things

O hear they freedom's mark

They are the light to guide the poor

These flowers in the dark.



I care not should we freemen die

To see the garden flower,

And humble bluebells lift their heads

To rise in all their power.

I hold a tear, torn sore in heart,

'Twere e're a Joan of Arc.

'Tis each one of these saintly flowers

Who be in dungeons dark.