And now, as the night was senescent And star-dials pointed to morn— As the star-dials hinted of morn— At the end of our path a liquescent And nebulous lustre was born, Out of which a miraculous crescent Arose with a duplicate horn— Astarte's bediamonded crescent Distinct with its duplicate horn. ... "Ah, can it Have been that the woodlandish ghouls— .... Had drawn up the spectre of a planet From the limbo of lunary souls— This sinfully scintillant planet From the Hell of the planetary souls?"
https://youtu.be/fWsnMAxNRbU?si=G7sxpWJRKfOxAZUo
And now, as the night was senescent And star-dials pointed to morn— As the star-dials hinted of morn— At the end of our path a liquescent And nebulous lustre was born, Out of which a miraculous crescent Arose with a duplicate horn— Astarte's bediamonded crescent Distinct with its duplicate horn. ... "Ah, can it Have been that the woodlandish ghouls— .... Had drawn up the spectre of a planet From the limbo of lunary souls— This sinfully scintillant planet From the Hell of the planetary souls?"
God's Army stands before me, and they offer me their lands; Before me lies their wonderland of happy days and plans. Infinity around me spreads, like patchwork fields displayed, It's rich, it's beautiful, it's grand! And I am sore dismayed. Behind me lies the tatters of every dream that's failed, Of every hope, and every joy, and every man I've hailed. So where to now? What is it like, to come back to the beginning? To pick it up and forge ahead, still struggling, but now grinning? Invitations all around me; each direction is marked "Out". I must gather all my forces and perform a mighty rout. For I am Gaia, Joan of Arc, the Mother of the Fire, I'll live to serve the god of Love and die upon His pyre.
