O proud left foot, that veetures quick within, then soon upon a backward journey lithe:
Anon, once more the gesture, then begin:
Command sinistral pedestal to writhe, Commence thou then the fervid Hokey-Poke.
A mad gyration, hips in wanton swirl.
To Spin! A wilde release from heaven's yoke.
Blessed dervish! Surely canst go, girl.
The Hoke, the poke, banish now thy doubt
Verily, I saw, 'Tis what it's all about.'
