My hands,be dancing to God,your Guide,And peal my pipes,and riot my feet,and writhe to His Heat,my tripes.So fair!With Rum-te-te-Tumte Tum,And Rum and Tum,and Rum-te-te-Tum,and Rum-te-te-Tum,te Tum.So fair!This freehold for seraphs free!That flame! those skies!and Blest is Her Name,and blest are my eyes,that see.
I'll dance,I'll dance like a ram,for fun,I'll smack the sun,I'll dance at the breezeI'll dance till I breeda son.For Thou!Thou bringest Thine endsto pass:This hump so high,this lump and her sigh,Thou lead'st through the Nee-dle's Eye.'Tis wellthe saurians sprawled,and roared!'Tis well Thou art!and well that Thou wast,and well when at lastthey soared!And well,O well that Thou artto beWhen seraph heartswill laugh by this brook,and break for the loveof Thee.Thy yearsshall still by increasete Tum,And dance and dance,With Rum-te-te-Tum....
so, singing, he danced, and, dancing, sang; and their sounds grew faint; and they entered into the City of Glory, and their sounds failed....
They took him for the Sent of Heaven, nor did the results of his glorious reign gainsay such a notion: the good Loveday, indeed, had the agreeable fancy that our greatest are really One, who eternally runs the circle of incarnation after incarnation from hoary old ages till now—the Ancient of Days, his hair white like wool, quietly turning up anew when the time yearns, and men are near to yield to the enemy: Proteus his name, and ever the shape he takes is strange, unexpected, yet ever sharing the same three traits of vision, rage and generousness—the Slayer of the Giant—Arthur come back—the Messenger of the Covenant—the genius of our species—Jesus the Oft-Born.