“Bear witness Doom, unto that great wand of the ancients and its hand!
Behold what noble grandeur fills him, gilding each his tragic steps.
Discern his cords, thou Wheels of Fate who turnest through Creation’s Halls,
Know his path and find him quickly… that wayward child who loveth thee.
His steps are kindled in the dusk, golden embers rustling near him.
They quicken through that regal tread, the Hunter: haunted by desire.
Thirsts he for the ageless rivers, may that they ease his flaming gaze!
May that they quench his striving will; that wayward child who loveth thee.”
– From Book IV