When in a rainbow of sunsets,
The silent seas endowed,
A listener o’er the horizon,
Heard the mocking-crow and bowed;
For in the blissful ev’ning,
Fruition was come by chance;
The only way to do the deed,
Was to do it in a dance.
With a city-slick one out in the broad,
The straits were shown all red.
A pleasant tongue, a pleasant song,
He murmured the seas to bed.
A far off set, they heard the cry,
Whilst dressed in robes of white serene,
For the midnight sun had come at once;
The Heaven’s blood they had not seen.
Trees, solid in foot, but firm in mind,
Made a promise to find the dance,
Uprooting from their very stones,
They headed for the westward trance.
Then when their oaks had rooted upon
The piper and the voice,
Their souls of wood were in bodies stone;
They would not leave, had made their choice…
There in the rainbow of sunsets,
Where the seas are all endowed,
Listeners over the horizon
Hear the melody to which they’ve bowed.