Black be the day and accursed be the story.
Tyrants have vanquished the sons of the
brave.
At our destruction the sun veiled it's glory.
All our fair freedom was lost in the waves.Over Eryri the setting sun flashes.
Night's curtain closes o'er moorland and lea.
Now not a breath stirs the shadowy ashes.
Far far away falls the sigh of the sea.Bright were the banners that waved in the
morning.
Grey were the hearts of the King and his host.
Little they knew of the fate that befell them.
Valour was spoilt and the battle was lost.
