There where the course is,
delight makes all of the one mind,
the riders upon the galloping 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 tune,
its flesh being wild, and it again
Crying aloud as the racecourse is,
and we find hearteners among men
that ride upon horses.