The Changeless that is back of all the change.
Lightly it comes as when a rose would be—
Takes feature yet remains a mystery.
On Seeing Vedder’s “Pleiades”
I hear a burst of music on the night!
Look at the white whirl of their bodies, see
The sweep of arms seraphical and free,
And over their heads a rush of circling light,
That draws them on with mystery and might:
But O the wild dance and the deathless song,