Shining is that City by the Sea,
Pining for their Era of Glory,
In the Cathedral Blue,
What was Old rises a-New,
A rebith vouchsafed by Eternity.

Are you not glad to now be so blessed?
But what of alliance, New Celest?
What of the Forest True?
Or that Gem Cririk knew?
Only one of three has been addressed!

Wise Mother Moon favours Her Coven,
And Brother Hart has His own Chosen.
Surpassing all compare,
We may safely declare:
The Last Seed shall bloom Ambrosean.

Peopled by lucidian and trill,
Hallifax rises yet higher still,
In the Tempest a Jewel,
Bound as One by the Rule:
Truth and Beauty fulfill.

And so I limerick to entreat:
"Let our hearts to single purpose beat!"
If distinction divides,
Camaraderie elides,
And our triumph is left incomplete.

Penned by my hand on the 13th of Shanthin, in the year 472 CE.