The Dancem Is that dance slowing in the mind of man That made him think the universe could hum? The great wheel turns its axle when it can; I need a place to sing, and dancing-room, And I have made a promise to my ears I'll sing and whistle romping with the bears. For they are all my friends: I saw one slide Down a steep hillside on a cake of ice, -- Or was that in a book? I think with pride: A caged bear rarely does the same thing twice In the same way: o watch his body sway! -- This animal remembering to be gay. I tried to fling my shadow at the moon, The while my blood leaped with a wordless song. Though dancing needs a master, I had none To teach my toes to listen to my tongue. But what I learned there, dancing all alone, Was not the joyless motion of a stone. I take this cadence from a man named Yeats; I take it, and I give it back again: For other tunes and other wanton beats Have tossed my heart and fiddled through my barin. Yes, I was dancing-mad, and how That came to be the bears and Yeats would know.