Arthur monologue — Arthur : $b A tragedy

The day goes to the night, And I to darkness, with my toil undone. Yet something, surely, something shall remain. A seed is sown in Britain, Guenevere; And whether men wait for a hundred years 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 From mere mortality. Farewell! That peace Which can remember, and yet hope, because Love makes us greater than we know, come to you, Guenevere!