Lonely George, the only one,

Left alone to face the sun;

Enduring bitter blasts of woe,

Evermore, forever so.

Flow thy long, and slow, and winding river,

Thou hast not yet thy summer withered-

On to cold and hateful winter,

Driving home the icy splinter.

And though your honour will live forever,

Thy Earthly form cannot withstand the weather;

You, too, must also surely perish,

And thus the ground thyself will nourish.

We should hang our heads to bear the shame

And sorrow for thy inflicted pain;

‘Tis but our cause thy name thou begot,

Thy fellow kind- felled- forgot.

But ‘tis not just you yourself must bear

The outrage of our deeds unfair:

Once wrapped in unmolesting zephyr

The world in its entirety suffers-

In green and luscious forests now

A Redwood rises tall and proud,

Standing ‘gainst the day ‘twill be

Lopped onto its ancient knees-

And what of the Seas, one blue and pure,

Now frothing deathly on desolate shore;

Poisoned by our wicked ways:

We took its glorious beauty ‘way.

The frowning sun, its course is set;

Marches with unrelenting step;

Illuminates this deathly scene

That once was sweet and so serene.

Forbear this shame- this bitter outrage!-

And turn again this sordid stage

Back to the paradise it used to be,

And in Nature’s bosom let us be leal.