What could be more prosaic than this clockwork?
When wonders step in stately dance,
their scheduled passage (perfect) kept...
Where, then, is all the old romance
that drove the poets from their beds?
The gears of science smoothly glide,
unseen, beneath the dazzling dance.
Old friends and memories provide
no smaller marvels to our eyes.
When wonders step in stately dance,
their hands outstretch to draw us in.
And luminous, we join the throng,
our spirits dancing all night long.