o song, from ancient wells eternal sprung
through wandering time a coloured thread
the her, the him, the echoed chord
be ever-present, ever-sung
as we do journeys slowly make
and may there listeners always be
to soundless resonance of form
the shade of light, the breath of day
a half-dreamed thought within a dream
forget us not who wearied be
and when at last our shape we lose
now woven back within the core
defined again but as the whole
forgive us for the troubled notes
we cast within the sacred scores