The cadence of Farewell.
Not these things and not thus do we forget;
But the informing spirit, the dream within
And the high ardour that was half-akin
To ancient faiths and half to hopes not yet
Coherent, unperceived are surely gone,
Like stars that dawnward set.
Though "their name liveth," the dream they died to bring
Unto fruition eludes our fumbling hold;
The Othman riders gallop to their old