Or for a thousand, they shall find it flower
In youth unborn. The young have gone before me,
The maid Elaine, Gareth, and Gaheris—hearts
Without a price, poured out. But now I know
The tender and passionate spirit that burned in them
To dare all and endure all, lives and moves,
And though the dark comes down upon our waste,
Lives ever, like the sun above all storms;
This old world shall behold it shine again
To prove what splendour men have power to shape