As The Wind, And As The Wind, In A Corner Of The Way, Goes Stepping, Stands Twirling, Invisibly, Comes Whirling, Bows Before, And Skips Behind, In A Grave, An Endless Play So My Heart, And So My Heart, Following Where Your Feet Have Gone, Stirs Dust Of Old Dreams There; He Turns A Toe; He Gleams There, Treading You A Dance Apart. But You See Not. You Pass On.