What a lucky man I am
For once I saw a group
Of prophets of the godly song
Before them in my stoop.

The man he played a string or two
And everybody shook
I saw him sing and dance along
With the crowds caught in his look

I watched a young girl, dark of hair
Rise and dance, her years were few
Like all those women, good of heart
I'd seen dance while they greatly grew.

Fascinating, the song's effect on
Two lovely young women too
Old as I, yet perhaps more drunk
They danced, I fell, it's true

The adults watched, sadly tired
And I too, though I'm young
Because nothing I could do could make
Me rise and beat the drum

The dance of ages brought about
By the song of years gone by
Organic music, grown from soil
Rich with thought and sly.

And now I play the strings as well
Desperate to see it again
That primal dance in beauty and me
Perhaps I'll know it when

I go back there, that thoughtful square
Where I saw those girls adance
I'll tell them then, I'll tell them there
They broke me from life's ghostly trance.