Flame out with sorrow and yearning love.
AVERLAINE: And I, who wandered with grey despair,
Looking up, saw heaven in blossom above.
ARKELD: Ah God, ah God, that it never had been!
AVERLAINE: The Shadow, the Shadow that falls between!
ARKELD: May we not go as we came, alone,
Unto the ends of the earth anew?
AVERLAINE: May we draw afresh from the rose new-blown
The golden sunlight, the crystal dew?
ARKELD: Yea, love between us has bloomed as a rose