Jazz-hounds everyone they were
As they poured their souls
Into the instruments of choice.
The fierce wind howled without,
Then, speaking in angry tones,
Shattered the window panes
And blew out the lights.
Zeues hurled his thunderbolts
And zigzagged the lightning through the dark.
The dancers' feet stood still;
The jazz-hounds were mute.
Angry winds,
Serpentine lightning,
Rolling thunder...
A crash!
A hurricane of souls...
The hand of God... in the dark.