The knyght hath serched, yit naught but voyde is founde, No fayr Emelye, no Theseus' decre. The path is lost; the digitalle wastelande's bounde Holds neyther page nor scroll for him to see. Yit knyghtes do nat faltren, bende, nor flee; Though errour haunteth his noble steede's long ride, His quest for ordre shalle nat be denied.