All racking along in a downy white cloud;
And lest our leap from the sky should prove too far,
We slide on the back of a new-falling star.
Naker. And drop from above,
In a jelly of love.
Dam. But now the sun's down, and the element's red,
The spirits of fire against us make head.
Naker. They muster, they muster, like gnats in the air:
Alas! I must leave thee, my fair;
And to my light-horsemen repair.