Joy's Fic

(I'm a little late, sorry)

I'm thinking of the last phrase of Tennyson's poem, Ulysses:


though We are not now
that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven,
that which we are, we are
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate,
but strong in will
To strive,
to seek,
to find,
and not to yield.