“When hybrid meets the fallen seed The virgin seedling flies; An orphaned waif shall call to me When blossom meets the skies. The child of doubt will find his rest And meet his virgin bride; A dragon shorn will live again, Rejecting Eden’s pride. A slayer comes and with his host He fights the last of thee; But faith alone shall win the war, The test of those set free. A king shall rise of Arthur’s mold, The prophet’s book in hand; He takes the sword from mountain stone To rescue captive bands.”
