The Font!
Cor. No, it is snow and wine.
Beat. He wanders!
Perth. I had not thought to find it so at last,
Yet here, and here alone, it has arisen
Within these two—my only youth! Yes—now!
Upon this hour and place at last! The Source!
It is a barren place—yet flowers are here,
Those which for certain days I seemed to lose;
A desolate tender fatherhood has here