youngest pupil. And cry that when they took his ancient right
They took all common sleep; therefore he claims
The mountain for his mattress and his pillow.
oldest pupil. And there he can sleep on, not noticing,
Although the world be changed from worse to worse,
Amid the changeless clamour of the curlew.
youngest pupil [motioning to them to stop]. Yet make triumphant music; sing aloud
For coming times will bless what he has blessed
And curse what he has cursed.
oldest pupil. No, no, be still,
Or pluck a solemn music from the strings
You wrong his greatness speaking so of triumph.
youngest pupil. O silver trumpets, be you lifted up
And cry to the great race that is to come.
Long-throated swans upon the waves of time,
Sing loudly for beyond the wall of the world
That race may hear our music and awake.
oldest pupil [motioning the musicians to lower their trumpets]. Not what it leaves behind it in the light
But what it carries with it to the dark
