Delight makes all of the one mind，

    The riders upon the galloping¹ horses，

    The crowd that closes in behind：

    We， too， had good attendance once，

    Hearers and hearteners of the work；

    Aye， horsemen for companions，

    Before the merchant and the clerk

    Breathed on the world with timid breath.

    Sing on： somewhere at some new moon，

    We‘ll learn that sleeping is not death，

    Hearing the whole earth change its tune²，

    Its flesh being wild， and it again

    Crying aloud as the racecourse is，

    And we find hearteners among men

    That ride upon horses.