But lo, what sudden cloud has darkened all
The land as with a funeral pall?
The Rose of England suffers blight,
The flower has drooped, the Isle’s delight,
Flower and bud together fall—
A Nation’s hopes lie crushed in Claremont’s desolate hall.
AIR.—SOPRANO
Time a chequered mantle wears;—
Earth awakes from wintry sleep;
Again the Tree a blossom bears,—