Lay waste our store,
Nor overwhelm
Our lands beneath his crimson tide.
Mars, god of war, Peace comes anon,
Now war hath gone,
Her olive bough
Of gentleness and quiet she brings
Beneath her sway,
No deadly fray
Can fright us now;
Lay waste our store,
Nor overwhelm
Our lands beneath his crimson tide.
Mars, god of war, Peace comes anon,
Now war hath gone,
Her olive bough
Of gentleness and quiet she brings
Beneath her sway,
No deadly fray
Can fright us now;