The pallid frost of her skin 

shone a winter's moonlight 

Her tributaries of ocean blue

fell tranquil 

Gently sagging into noble retirement 

Her last breath 

fondly drifting through familiar chambers, 

extinguishing each final lustre 

of  home

It groaned a sweet goodbye 

Time to rest, ma'am 

Time to rest

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Our lily of the valley

Has shed her petals free

To drift upon the winds of time

In her own sweet Galilee 

The Mother of our nation

So long its beating heart 

Offers her earthly shell to rest

For her soul must now depart

So free it roams, through gilded vale

And bonny lochs & moors

Past stag & hare, & fragrant fayre 

To dusk's misty allures 

Where ...

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