Mark Bevin

For my purpose holds...

The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks, the long day wanes, the slow moon climbs, the sea moans round with many voices.

Come my friends 'tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite the sounding furrows, for my purpose holds: to the sail beyond the sunset and the baths of all the western stars...

It may be the gulfs will wash us down.

It may be we shall touch the Happy Isle and see the great Achilles whom we knew.

Tho' much is taken, much abides and though we are not now that strength which in old days moved Earth and Heaven, that which we are, we are: one equal temper of heroic hearts, made weak by time and fate, but not in will to Strive, to Seek, to Find and not to Yield.