Oh, I wish I had the philharmonic ears!
This song comes on strong with the agile
Breath of a swiftly dancing night.
Memories of it shall live forever.

And the lyrics, plain, speak of a
Silent humour hung on the ivied wall
Next to the thresholds of badinage.

Beethoven winked at the borders of restive
Chords. Stravinsky swore there wouldn’t
Have been a lower note —the one accompanying
A loud ceremony of wits.

O robed nights, star-famous,
How far do you stretch at such compositions
Patented for her elixir?

Pulses rummage the feeble heart-lustres
Common with the discerning shrubs and dark
Grass with listening ears.

And her eyes beamed the restlessness of night,
Like a vigil for a returned, narrow-nosed pilgrim
Waking a somnolent village.