Three of fours,
Make way for two,
At least there's only one,
But gladly it is half of four,

A language that does dance in lines,
That makes the numbers merry acts,
That turns itself in knots to do
A magic trick in metred step,

What gift it is this language broad,
It's cry I heeded: All Aboard!
So now it's mine a gleaming sword,
Cut gems of phrase I can't afford.

Cloud walking,
Sleepy in the air,
Ascendant on the racing clouds,
That wrap around the rolling earth,
And rumble, soaked and heavy in parts,
And others boil with furious crackles,
But here they float on slowly now,
Under the setting stars.