We heard of your foemen, the wind and the wave
Of homes and of kin that the levees could not save,
In Axemoor and Seleone, Eagle’s Isle and Dragoun’s Weal,
The tyrant waters’ rising brings wounds that will not heal.
From out the flood waters Gleann Abhann shall rise,
Sing all ye people, raise your voices to the skies!
On a field gules and sable the Ram proudly stands,
Borne up by our hearts and our hands.
Oh my sisters and brothers, sad husband and wife,
Clinging there to hope or just clinging to life,
We will not forsake you, so weary with care
As we send forth our aid with a song and a prayer.
For a land is her people, their worth above all
If the folk be steadfast then the Kingdom cannot fall.
Soon a new day will dawn over wood, sea and stone
When Radu and Broinnfinn claim Gleann Abhann’s throne.
Donna L. Armistead © 2005