In Smoky Lamplight Of A Smyrna Caf', He Saw Them, Seven Solemn Negroes Dancing, With Faces Rapt And Out-Thrust Bellies Prancing In A Slow Solemn Ceremonial Cakewalk, Dancing And Prancing To The Sombre Tom-Tom Thumped By A Crookbacked Grizzled Negro Squatting. And As He Watched ... Within The Steamy Twilight Of Swampy Forest In Rank Greenness Rotting, That Sombre Tom-Tom At His Heartstrings Strumming Set All His Sinews Twitching, And A Singing Of Cold Fire Through His Blood - And He Was Dancing Among His Fellows In The Dank Green Twilight With Naked, Oiled, Bronze-Gleaming Bodies Swinging In A Rapt Holy Everlasting Cakewalk For Evermore In Slow Procession Prancing.