The brittle present turns to marble arch,
A brawny bridge for an outward march.
Our cataracts blaze with a future sight,
Excise a darkness, transplant with light.
To Seren star.
Feel the thrum,
Ranks clap a rhythm of Baxtorian Hollow
Harps rung the ladder and flautists follow.
Swirl and sing, lift your heads and yell
Tonight we shall drink of the Voyager's Well!